Mutism
by TangoSVU
Summary: COMPLETE! A young girl is victimized but won't talk despite her connection with Liv. When another girl is murdured, the perp leaves a note for Benson so Elliot & Olivia fight 2 solve the case. Good character moments: Liv, El, Casey, & Rebecca Hendrix. R
1. RunIn

**Disclaimer: I do not own SVU and am in no way associated with NBC or Dick Wolf or anybody/thing else. Character's outside of those found on the TV show are mine obviously, otherwise I'm just fleshing out my faves the way I think they deserve to be expressed. So read and enjoy, and as always review! Feel free to speculate. Might even lead to some new twists and shout outs! TangoSVU**

It's dark. Really dark. She can't see anything, it's all fuzzy. And all she can hear is her heart thumping loudly, too loudly, underneath her ribs. Her eyes are all sticky too, like they are covered in dried tears. In fact, her whole body feels icky, and it hurts. She puts her hands on the ground and realizes it's not a floor she recalls, much less her bed. Suddenly she recognizes that distinct type of alley smell in her nose: all gasoline and dirt and mold and urine. Something else too, something horrid that she's never smelled before but which is still strangely familiar. Then she remembers.

She leaps off the ground, scrambling to grab her jacket and throw it over her shoulders before tearing out of there. Then she runs. She runs and she runs and she runs. She runs until the night turns into a faded dawn. She runs until she has no idea where she is or where she came from. She runs until the images stop flashing over her eyes and she is not worried about her voice working against her will. She runs until she can pretend that nothing ever happened. She runs until she collapses onto the pavement in an exhausted mangled heap, not even understanding that she's run right into someone.

"Whoa there!" Olivia calls, stumbling backward to prevent a fall and raising her right hand so her tea doesn't slosh over into anyone's face. She goes to gather the girl to her feet when she gets that familiar tug in her heart. The girl is struggling to breathe and when Olivia gets a glimpse of a bruised and bloody face she immediately drops her cup without another thought. "Are you okay? What happened?" Olivia takes in her ripped shorts and misbuttoned jacket and sighs. She can smell a rape victim like it's a sixth sense of hers. "Did somebody hurt you?" she asks gently, and watches beneath her feet as the girl crumbles into herself from the top down like a building being demolished, one floor upon the other. Olivia supports the girl's weight with both arms and tells her, "I'm a police officer. You're safe now, ok? My name's Olivia. I'm going to take you to the hospital." and feels the girl go limp against her body. Raising her to her feet by her armpits, Olivia then puts the girl softly into her car.


	2. Madeline

She has not said a word since she ran into Olivia. Not during the car ride over –despite Olivia's attempts at conversation – and not here, in the hospital. Olivia called on the way so they were able to rush them right back – and then promptly woke Elliot in order to make him aware of the situation – but she still should've said something. To be honest, Olivia's not even sure the girl can talk, but they go into the examination room and the girl refuses to let go of Olivia's hand, which she has in a death clutch.

"Hi," the nurse says as she enters through the door and shuts the blinds. "I'm Lindsey. And you?"

The girl, who couldn't be older than sixteen, bites her lower lip. Olivia pats her hand. "It's ok, sweetie. Can you tell us your name?" There's so much fear in her eyes, her body rigid, but she finally makes a motion with her left hand, all the while staring at the floor. Maybe she can't speak. "Do you have paper and a pen? I think she wants to write something." Olivia calls and scrambles around like the searching nurse as much as she can without forcing the girl to release her grip.

She looks at the pad strangely for a moment, as if she doesn't know why it's there, as if she had not asked for it at all. Then she begins, the pen not even making a sound as she writes cautiously, as if every individual letter is being ripped from her soul. When the girl hands the pad back to Olivia there is only one word on it: Madeline. "Madeline? Is that your name?"

The girl's eyes cross and she shakes her head, taking the pad again and scribbling faster, again somehow without any noise. This time, in quotations, is "Madelynn" and then: not like the little French girl, and Olivia has to smile. "Ok, Madeline," She says, using the correct pronunciation, remembering how frustrating it had been when she was Persephone and always had to correct how people said it. "It's nice to meet you." And Madeline tries to smile back.


	3. Examination Panic

Madeline looks so small. So young. No, Olivia corrects herself. Not young. No, her eyes are old, her movements careful. She won't even look Olivia in the eyes and she's startling way too easy. Whatever happened to this girl, it has her positively terrified.

Now, Olivia has always been empathetic for victims, even before she entered this unit, but she has never experienced this exact pull on her emotions. Rather than just fix this girl's tragedy, bring about justice for it, she finds herself needing to erase it. She can't explain why, but when she looks at Madeline, Olivia suddenly feels so much like a mother it makes her heart hurt; wanting desperately to take this girl into her arms and transfer all the pain and memories onto herself instead, and it makes her wonder about Madeline's own mother: where she is now, where she was when her child unexpectedly stopped being a child at all.

The walls are too white, Madeline thinks. It's not right. She doesn't like it. She doesn't like it here at all. She just knows that nothing good will come out of this. But she is terrifyingly clingy as she clutches the detective's hand in the small confines of the examination room, needing how solid it sits against her skin, momentarily stopping its shaking. The palm is slightly warm but her fingertips are cold, like she's been outside.

Olivia has got a really nice smile too, sort of motherly. Not one that lights up her whole face or anything, like the nurse's, but one that is immediately calming, as if a person could tell her anything and she'd make everything all right again, no matter what had happened – which scares Madeline because she can't tell anyone anything. And it's sincere too, that Madeline notices right away.

The nurse begins messing with some kind of equipment, and panic squeezes around Madeline's heart. "I'm staying right here with you, the whole time, I promise. So why don't you talk to me?" Olivia says, smoothly stepping out of Lindsey's way like this is a dance she's done so many times she doesn't even have to think about it anymore and switches hands so she can face Madeline.

But the panic consumes again, and Madeline quickly looks away while biting her lower lip. The nurse is pointing out how many of her scrapes need stitches and then asks Madeline to take off her outer shirt.

Madeline stops breathing. She has a tank on underneath, but… her arms. The nurse will see her arms. Madeline squeezes Olivia's hand by accident and she puts her other hand by the girl's wrist, asking what's wrong but Madeline's brain obviously isn't capable of thinking clearly because she doesn't know what to do to get herself out of this mess. She doesn't even know how she got in. If only she'd obeyed him when…

Madeline shakes her head vigorously, her tongue thick and dry inside her mouth. "Sure you can hon; we just need to check you over for injuries. It's okay." Lindsey says, which Olivia echoes, but it only causes Madeline to shake her head more and grip the edges of her sleeves tight between her fingertips, which Olivia only notices because Madeline has let go of her hand to do so. "Here we'll help."

And they've unbuttoned it and they're pulling it off. They're pulling it off and she can't stop it. She can't stop it so she just closes her eyes. Someone breathes in quick. Olivia, probably, because the nurse is still talking to her, taking it in stride. "That's a lot of scars, young lady. You sure you're ok?" And Madeline just nods, looking down.

Madeline tries to squirm away from Lindsey's grasp when she touches one of the more recent cuts, midway through the scab phase, so still tender, and the newest ones too, angry red lines grinning up at Madeline, but Olivia is holding her hand again, somehow keeping her still. The nurse hands her a gown and has her step onto a paper sheet on the floor in-between two curtains. The detective supports Madeline's weight on her way over, and she's never felt so fragile. There are bags on the floor with labels. She's supposed to put her clothes in them and wear the gown, she knows, but she doesn't want to. She wonders if she will get the items back, wonders if she wants them back at all.

When Madeline's done she climbs onto the table again and pinches her eyes so she doesn't have to see their faces anymore. Then she hears something metallic click into place as the bed shudders and slowly she cracks her eyes open slightly. "All right, now if you'll just set your feet into those stirrups for me," and suddenly it's just the nurse, Olivia, and Madeline in this echoy little claustrophobic room. Just the three of them. Them and Madeline. Nice confident Lindsey, big brave Olivia, and Madeline. Scared little Madeline.

The nurse helps move her legs because she's still shaking. Then Lindsey pulls up a chair and Madeline suddenly notices that Olivia already has and the bed has also been lain down so now the detective is by her head. "I'm just finishing up the examination, then I'll take some pictures and send this puppy off to the lab."

Madeline looks up at Olivia, questions thick through her lashes. "It's okay. I'm right here with you through it."

Lindsey speaks briefly "All right, you're gonna feel a slight bit of pressure here," and just like that Madeline can't breathe. She can't breathe. There's no air in the room. There's nothing. Nothing at all. She wants to scream Stop! Stop! I don't want to do this! I don't want to do this! STOP! She wants to scream it from the top of her lungs but she can't. She can't. He made her swear.

So she just gasps for breath, convulsing almost even though Olivia's grabbing her shoulders and Lindsey is up off her chair and everyone's telling Madeline to calm down, calm down, but she can't, she can't. Something's going over her mouth and she can see them. She can see them both hovering before her but she still can't breathe and this time it's Olivia who's squeezing Madeline's hand and running her fingers through Madeline's messy light red hair as the loose bits stick with sweat to the skin all around her face. Her green eyes are all glassy, glazed over with these tears of fear that won't fall as she chokes, pulling her knees up tight into her chest.

Olivia comes close. "Where do you want to be?" Madeline's breathing is still shallow and the nurse is checking her blood pressure and heart rate again, trying to move past her legs. "Look at me," Olivia says in a way that leaves no room for confrontation and yet is not really fierce or frightening either. She stares right at Madeline while gently pressing the girl's legs down. She is not afraid of me, Madeline realizes suddenly. Nor does she pity me. She sees understanding there, in Olivia's full gaze, equal amounts of sadness, fear, love and anger. She is redemption, a way out, not revenge but justice. A soul from the other side; and this is the moment when Madeline lets go, surrendering to Olivia as a spark of hope ignites in her heart. "Think, where do you want to be? You're safe here. I promise you." The detective points to the gun at her hip and then to the door. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I'll protect you."

Madeline nods slightly and is just starting to calm down when, perfect wrong timing, Elliot shows up at the door. Madeline's eyes go wide as saucers and Olivia turns to where she's staring. She hurriedly motions for Elliot to show his badge, "He's my partner, Madeline. His name is Elliot Stabler. He's ok, it's ok. He would never ever hurt you." and then shoos him away as Madeline struggles to suck in some air once more.

Finally, Olivia nods at Lindsey, who returns the gesture and sits down again, putting her hand softly on Madeline's ankle, but Olivia is demanding her attention. "Think about where you want to be. Close your eyes. Where are you? What are you doing there? Who is with you?" And Madeline lets Olivia lead her down this road so that she can forget what the nurse is doing and forget why she's here or what happened and that's ok with her. She'll be okay as long as she can forget, as long as she doesn't talk. Because then nothing happened and she's okay.


	4. Diagnosis and Interrogation

When the examination is finished and Madeline is resting quietly, Olivia can finally slip her hand free and follow the nurse into the hallway to talk. Lindsey answers Olivia's question without waiting for her to finish raising her eyebrow. "There's extensive bruising and complete transection of the hymen. I found some fluid on the inner thigh but it's hard to say whether or not it was semen."

Olivia sighs. "The bruising around her wrists is a sign of struggle and some of the blood on her clothes could've been the perps."

"Yes," the nurse agrees. "But with her apparent scar history, I can't be certain that her injuries were not self-inflicted."

"Look," Olivia cuts her off. "I've seen enough. Just the examination was obviously traumatic for her. There is no doubt in my mind that that girl was raped, regardless of whether she's a cutter or not."

"I know! I'm just telling you what it looks like. I'm calling psyche down for a consult."

"No way," Olivia shakes her head. "I need to speak with her first." The nurse is about to interrupt, so Olivia forces herself to settle down and change her tone of voice. "She signed the papers, right? So you get my partner in the hallway to send the kit off to the lab – top priority - and do her paperwork. That should give me enough time to talk with her and then you can call whomever it is you need to call. You let me do my job, and I'll let you do yours." Acquiescent, Lindsey finally agrees and walks off while Olivia turns to go back inside the room.

She stops with her hand on the door when she sees Madeline: the girl's curled up tight into a ball on her side with a hospital blanket pulled over her shoulders in one hand and the other has a death grip on part of the bed frame. Her eyes are vacant and unblinking, like she's still in shock. Olivia puts her left hand up to her forehead with another sigh, knowing that this is going to be a tough one.

Next, she goes in and sits close to Madeline, wresting the girl's hand away from its place on the metal rail, grabbing it tightly but gently in one and then wrapping it securely inside the other like a baby being swaddled. "Hey," Olivia says in her friendliest and most soothing voice. "Can I ask you a few questions?" She'd rather be doing this at the station or the girl's home rather than this room that has already upset her, but Olivia can't risk psyche putting her on a hold before she can get her statement. "Where were you last night, before you ran into me this morning, of course?"

Madeline bites her lip, which is quivering, and looks away. Olivia touches her shoulder lightly, causing Madeline to jump as if she's been slapped, so Olivia smiles apologetically and takes her hand away. "You can speak, can't you?" Madeline doesn't stop biting her lip, but she nods. "So why won't you talk to me? It's ok. You're safe here. Don't you trust me? You know that I will do everything in my power to catch the person who did this to you, don't you? Don't you know that I will keep you safe?"

Madeline nods again, and picks up the pad of paper and pen, frantically scribbling something on the paper before throwing it down as she starts to cry, the first sounds Olivia has actually heard coming from between her lips. Olivia bends down to look at what lays written on the paper and Madeline just cries harder.

"I tried to stop him. But he was too strong. He just smiled."

Son-of-a-bitch, Olivia thinks. Madeline is hysterical now, and Olivia tries to pull her back, knowing she is reliving everything in her mind and can't handle all of it yet. "It's ok, Sweetie. It's ok. It's not your fault. Madeline, I promise you, no matter what happened, it is not your fault." Trying to assure her, but the girl's sobs suddenly turn into a scream and Olivia just hugs her close.

And then she sees the bed sheets turning red in spots. Olivia looks down only to find Madeline's nails digging deep into the veins of her wrists and Olivia can't even remember letting her hands go at all. But her blood is rushing out fast and Olivia punches the nurse's button, calling out "Someone get in here now!" And she stands up, attempting to pull Madeline's hands apart, but she's still screaming out that sob so hard.

Lindsey rushes in, yelling at Olivia, asking what she did and blaming Olivia for her not getting psyche down here first. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Olivia says helplessly as they push five of Haladol into Madeline's IV after shoving Olivia out of the way. Suddenly her phone rings so she goes into the hallway.

"Benson," She answers, numbly unaware to the voice on the other end as Elliot comes beside her holding Madeline's rape kit and begins rattling off something she just can't hear about another new case.

"Hey, Liv, are you all right?" He pauses, but Olivia just flips the phone off, leaving Elliot dumbstruck in her wake, and lets the elevator doors close up behind her. It doesn't block the sound of Madeline's screams in her ears though and all she can do is slide down to the floor in the corner, elbows on her knees, and place her head in her hands.


	5. Back at the Squad

Detective Olivia Benson strides through the doors of the 1-6 less than an hour later, aimed right at her desk where she already expects the files there.

"Hey Liv, your shir…"

"What have we got?" Olivia barks, cutting Elliot off as their Captain enters the squad room.

Donald Cragen looks briefly at her attire before answering. "Not much, so you really could've changed, Olivia."

"Huh?" Her eyes go down to take in the sight of her comfy jeans and lavender sweater – perfect for an early morning tea run, but not so much for a shift – splotched in Madeline's blood, and tugs her blouse absent-mindedly away from her body. "Oh," the pitch of her voice falls.

"Elliot can fill you in; Munch took Lake and Fin to work a case over near Brooklyn." Cragen finishes, tossing a nod across his shoulder as a goodbye.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Olivia turns to Elliot with a questioning look. Elliot just gives her one of his own. "What happened?" He asks.

She sighs. "She couldn't handle the interview. I think she's a cutter," indicating her clothes "she pinched her wrists and had a bunch of old scars. I'm sure they've got her on a psych hold by now." Elliot remains quiet, so Olivia rushes forward, no longer able to contain her frustrations. "I shouldn't have tried to get her statement. She'd freaked out during the examination, I knew better than to try anything."

"You did your best, Liv. She'll come around. It's okay. At least she's safe in there."

"She wouldn't even talk to me El. Not a word. I only found out her name is Madeline because she wrote it down on a piece of paper, and who knows if that's actually her name at all. How am I supposed to help her if she won't talk to me?"

"At least she's trying to communicate with you. Are you sure she's capable of speaking?"

Olivia nods, sitting down at her desk. "What has got her so terrified that she refuses to use her own voice?"

Knowing this is currently an unanswerable question, Elliot moves on. "This is what we know," he walks over to hand her a photo of Madeline. "We've sent her picture through the database and got nothing from the city, but missing persons hasn't finished searching and detectives are out passing it around the area where you found her. Once we figure out who she is we'll have a better idea of what happened to her. Oh, and give Warner a kiss next time you see her, the rape kit's already back." Olivia looks up from the photo expectantly, but Elliot shakes his head. "It's not what we'd hope for, but we'll make do. We might have some blood spots that are the perps, but nothing came up in the system. Mostly it's spermicide."

"Bastard used a condom." Olivia exhales loudly through her nose.

"Yeah, but it appears like only the most recent time. The girl's allergic to latex, but the rash is new."

"'Most recent time'? So you're saying he raped her more than once?"

"Some of the trauma was at least a month old."

"Which means we're looking at a kidnapper, not just a rapist."

A dejected Elliot agrees. "A real monster."

Olivia gets up, fingers splayed and hands pressed flat against the picture on her desk. "Let's track him down."


	6. Interlude

"So let me get this straight, it's been two days and we still don't even know the victim's full name?" Cragen corners the detectives inside his office.

"Captain, we're trying but we've got no leads," Olivia tries to explain.

Elliot adds, "We just need more,"

"Well, we don't have more time. I can't keep letting you waste manpower on nothing. Either set it aside as a cold case or figure something out fast. I want this case closed yesterday."

Olivia and Elliot file out of Cragen's door, resigned but not defeated. Olivia purses her lips. "I'm gonna go talk to Madeline again, it's our only chance."

"I'll put the squeeze on missing persons;" Elliot says. "Someone out there has got to know who this kid is."


	7. Psych Ward

The door closes behind her with a soft hiss of air and the pop of a seal, but the lock latches loudly, which unnerves Olivia for some strange reason. There's just something about this case. She rights her shoulders and strolls with fake confidence down the hall toward Madeline's room. But when she gets there, she discovers an empty space with a freshly made bed. Eyes wide and badge flashing, Olivia rushes to the nurse's desk where a woman sits popping her gum. "What happened to Madeline? Room 47 is empty."

"Madeline's fine. Her room always looks empty; the kid's got no stuff."

The incorrect pronunciation irks Olivia but she does not bother to correct the clerk. "So then where is she? I thought she was on suicide watch."

The young receptionist – her nametag says Tracy – gives Olivia a look of annoyance. "She's in a therapy session. Duh. That's all they ever do around here."

"With whom? Where?"

"How am I supposed to know? Check the board, I have papers to file." She huffs.

Olivia puts her right index finger up to the small dry erase board on the wall. "She's not signed out. Where is Madeline?"

Tracy rolls her eyes at the melodrama in front of her and snaps her gum a final time. "Loosen up, just follow the music."

The music? Olivia thinks. It's then that she realizes a piano is tinkling close by. So she cocks her head and goes back the way she came, turning down a side hallway until she comes across an open room. It's set up like a parlor room, wood floors scattered with fancy rugs and couches by sophisticated lamps, plus the black upright piano to the side.

This is where Madeline sits, hair wild and wrapped wrists standing out with a blinding whiteness as her hands move gracefully over the keys. She plays a mellow sounding piece, full of sorrow and rich tones, but Olivia does not recognize it.

Dr. Rebecca Hendrix takes notes over on the side and motions when she notices Olivia in the entryway, getting up herself and approaching the detective. She leans in close to Olivia's ear so as not to disturb the pianist. "Madeline plays this exact same song repeatedly, but I think she skips a section towards the middle every time. She gets volatile if we don't let her stay in here all day long. We're lucky if we get her to go to bed at night and she refuses to eat."

"But has she said anything?" Olivia wonders aloud. "I couldn't get her to speak to me."

Rebecca shakes her head. "Not a word. She's what we call an elective mute, meaning she can talk, but for unknown psychological reasons, she won't. The most we've gotten out of her is an angry yell when we try to take her away from the piano. That's why I've moved her sessions in here. She's glued to that piano like her life depends on it."

"To her it might," Olivia mutters, and they both sigh.

"I'm bringing in a music therapy specialist to observe Madeline. Maybe he'll tell us something. But otherwise I've got nothing for you. I'll keep you posted if I figure anything out, I know how it works."

Olivia nods. "Actually I was surprised to see you back, what with the circumstances surrounding the last time we parted."

"Yeah, that." Hendrix laughs weakly. "Well seeing as how the main plaintiff who made the complaint subsequently died, nobody was really interesting in pursuing anything. I worked at a private practice for awhile since it got me a six month suspension from the Ethics Committee, but it didn't hurt me much in the long run."

"Guess you've got the twins to thank for that one."

There's a scoff as the doctor turns towards her charge before glancing back at Olivia. "Ever figure out which one of them killed him?"

Olivia's reply to end their conversation is short, half smile and all. "Nope."

Madeline hasn't broken her gaze from the piano, but somehow Olivia knows she's recognized their presence in the room, so she faces the girl when she reaches the door. "I'll be back, Madeline. Take care." And off she goes.


	8. Change of Plans

Elliot still has nothing new on Madeline's identity, and with her shift over by now anyway, Olivia doesn't want to go back to the precinct and risk another encounter with Cragen, so she just heads home to her apartment.

She takes a long hot shower and is just about to climb into bed when the phone rings. Her mind jumps instantly to a picture of Madeline's bandaged wrists and she picks the receiver up hastily. "Benson," she swallows, and listens. All she hears is breathing, and she's no doctor but it sounds like the lungs are wet. Then her buzzer goes off, simultaneously in her apartment and through the phone in her ear before the dial tone echoes. She grabs her gun and heads cautiously downstairs.

Olivia remembers the time when she found a man's body in a cardboard box in the middle of the night, the father of a victim, a boy whose trust she'd worked so hard to gain. She shivers at the memory, shaking it from her head. She wasn't going to allow that to happen again. But how much could she really prevent? Being called a detective was funny, Olivia thinks, because she didn't detect anything. It fell into her lap already broken, every time, and all she did was try to fix the pieces, right the wrongs.

So she draws in a deep breath, takes a good look outside, and opens the door. Something scrapes harshly in response. Directly beside the door a piece of paper flutters in the wind, an edge underneath a rock with her apartment number etched on it in what looks to be white out. Olivia picks it up only to find an address, messily scrawled and yet meticulously aligned. Then she does the only thing she can do, forget about sleeping and head to the address, stopping long enough only to grab a jacket and her cell so Elliot will know to meet her. She glances at her watch, 11:30pm. Damn, she huffs, hopefully El has his cell on vibrate, because if it wakes Eli… But she knows that regardless Kathy's gonna be pissed.


	9. Perp Makes Contact

When she gets to the address, she can barely manage to call in a bus. Elliot shows up soon after, running across the alleyway so he can view her face. "What've we got, Liv?"

Her head warbles. "The girl's dead, definitely homicide."

"How do you know?" Elliot looks down at the body, a woman in her early twenties with strawberry blonde hair, simply dressed but covered in old bruises and cuts, definitely cleaned up. Olivia hands him a slip of paper.

"The caller left us a note, well, me." Her gloved hand sweeps gently across the victim as Elliot scans the note.

_"You seem to have gotten caught inside my web, Detective Olivia Benson. Unfortunately for you, like an unsuspecting fly, you haven't figured anything out yet. But I'll give you a hint with my little present here. Her name is Candace Terpening, Madeline's older sister. Take good care of her in that hospital; I already rescued them from the fire once before. Oh, and tell Madeline to play the entire Chopin, the middle needs some work."_

"Don't worry Candace," Olivia whispers confidently but with a sad undertone, Elliot notices. "Madeline's gonna be okay. I promise you."

"Warner's on her way," Elliot says as Olivia stands up. "Where are you going?"

She looks at him with fire in her eyes. "He gave us a clue and I'm not going to waste it."

"Liv, it's nearly 1am. You can't just go tramping around New York at this time of night expecting to figure things like that out." Elliot reasons.

But she protests. "There are no more answers for me here." This girl was on a mission, Elliot senses, and he felt sorry for anyone who dared to get in her way, but that wasn't going to stop him, not now, not ever.

"Well this guy obviously knows your name and where you live. I think you need a security detail." He starts to follow her.

"Don't you _dare_," She whirls on him. "We're not going to go through that again. He's baiting me, not threatening me. The issue is over and closed. Now, I'm going to go figure out this message before getting some answers from Madeline and I'm doing it all without a detail." Daggers are flying out of her eyes, daring Elliot to challenge her, but he throws his hands up in defeat with a sigh and she passes by him brusquely on her way to her car.


	10. Elliot and the Terpening Fire

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed, especially ****EnforcerAndAccuserFan****. As many have noticed I am working very hard to stay close to character regardless of circumstances. Also, sorry the chapters are a bit short. Each "scene" seems to fill up so brief a space and I'd hate not to separate them. But hey, hopefully that at least means quicker updates! wink. TangoSVU**

"Stabler," he whispers into his cell phone early in the morning, trying not to awaken little Elliot, whom he is rocking in his arms while Kathy naps. "No, I haven't seen her since she left the scene. I was planning on doing some research at the library come my shift but with the baby, yes. Yes sir, I understand. Okay, Captain. Will do," and hangs up the phone to look at his youngest son. "Sorry little man, Daddy's got to go to work."

Later, at the library going through the microfilms, his phone goes off again. Luckily no one else is around this time of day so he can't get yelled at for the noisy interruption.

"Hey Elliot," Olivia says as soon as he picks up, rushing right into her spiel. "They found something on Candace's clothes, a scrap of the jacket Madeline was wearing when she bumped into me, and shoe prints at the scene match her sandals exactly too." Elliot pauses in his thoughts while her brain goes ahead and fills in the gaps. "Meaning Madeline was there with her sister. I think that's why she's been keeping her mouth shut all this time. She knows who he is. She knows who abused her and who killed Candace."

"If so that's great, an eye witness will really help with a conviction. Maybe we can finally catch this creep." He listens to her talk while flipping another slide with a swish of the machine when suddenly something catches his eye. "Wait Liv," she stops midsentence. "I think I just found something you need to see."

"Elliot, I can't come to the library, I'm on the way to talk to Madeline again right now. I've got to get to her before she slips away from me. What is it?" she sighs.

"I've got an article in a local paper from about eleven months ago that mentions the Terpening Fire." Olivia's ears perk up, waiting expectantly for him to continue. "It says the whole family died: the mother Elizabeth, father William, and two daughters, Candace nineteen, on break from college and Madeline fourteen, plus a neighbor named Brent Forrest who rushed in to help. Only unidentifiable partials of bodies were found. The police suspected arson."

"So that would make Madeline about fifteen." Olivia thinks out loud. "Makes sense now why Missing Persons couldn't find her. According to everyone Madeline Terpening was dead, not kidnapped. The neighbor angle sounds fishy though. Wanna go get a feel of the neighborhood? I'm almost at the hospital."

"Yeah, yeah. No problem. It's an area on the West side not too far from there; want me to stop by once I'm done?"

Olivia agrees. "Might as well. Over the phone today Dr. Hendrix said Madeline was finally less skittish with the male nurses. It'll probably be good for her to get use to you too while she's at it."


	11. Frank, Brent and Zoe

The screen door is locked and there's no doorbell, so the knocks have a plastic-like sound attached to them. "Excuse me, Mrs. Abernn, my name is Detective Stabler and I was wondering if you could answer some questions about an old neighbor, Brent Forrest?"

"Frank!" The woman tilts her head back to release a yell inside. She's probably in her mid 50's but her hair is already mixed brown and gray. Looking back at Elliot, she smiles and when she speaks it sounds like she's lived in Hell's Kitchen. "I heard about the fire, what a shame. Mobile homes like the Terpening's always did burn up real fast. Lucky no one else's got caught up in the flames. But it was before my time." A man, presumably Frank, opens the door farther and slides his arm around the woman's waist as she finishes. "We're recently married. He can tell you more than I could."

Frank nods at the back of his retreating wife. "What can I do for you Detective? There's not much to tell. Brent was a quiet fellow, always kept to himself, especially once that kid of his died."

Stabler's heart skips a beat, one of those detection things his body does when something important happens, just in case he didn't catch it otherwise. "Forrest had a child?"

"Well yeah, you don't know that?" The man practically thumps Elliot on the back of his head. "A girl, name was uh, Zoe if I remember right. She signed it to me once. Even when she was just a young teenager I used to always see her staring out that window, but one day she wasn't there no more. I knew she'd passed."

"So you're saying she was deaf. About when was this?'

"I assume so, yes. Oh, couple months before the fire I guess. Girl must've been about seventeen at the time. Damn shame. They cleaned out the apartment afterwards. Hadn't realized the guy'd had so much fancy electronic stuff." He leans in like he's passing along national secrets. "But if you ask me, that boy was funny, the way he looked at those Terpening girls. Bad funny." Something like pots and pans crashes behind him and he steps away from Stabler. "Uh, I've gotta go. Is there anything else you need?"

Elliot tips his head like an imaginary cowboy hat before heading down the stairs. "No sir, thank you for your time."

He has Cragen on the line before he even reaches his car. "Yea, Captain, we get anything on Forrest? Neighbor here says he had a deaf girl named Zoe, died in her late teens about the time of the fire." Sighing at the news, Elliot puts the key in the ignition and turns. "So there's no record of her at all? That's what I was afraid of. Yea, guess Forrest had some spaces to fill, and opportunity was right next door." He signals left and pulls onto the main road before continuing. "Liv's talking with Madeline at the hospital, I'm on my way to meet her right now, and then we'll report back to the station, no worries."

**A/N: Look out for some exciting revelations for Olivia and Madeline in the next chapter. Stay tuned!**


	12. Chopin's Revelation

This time when Olivia crosses the thresholds into the hospital's psych ward she does not bother to head towards the desk. Even if her feet hadn't remembered, all she needs to do is listen and she knows exactly where to go. She is still wary of Dr. Hendrix; regardless of her previous help Olivia can't stop seeing her as a woman who got into the Academy – take in mind just how few of us there are! She reflects – and then just up and decided she was too good for it all, which does not sit well in Olivia's heart, no matter what her brain might be saying. It sets her mood to automatic offense and that frustrates her as she aims to control it. At least she can't deny that Rebecca appears to be good for Madeline as she joins the small group in the parlor room.

Unlike the last time Olivia came, Madeline's hair is brushed and pulled into a loose ponytail with her side bangs riding her left eyebrow. The song she plays sounds just the same as before to Olivia, but the year of lessons she had in elementary school doesn't exactly qualify her as a piano expert. She walks over to the bench and rests a hand on Madeline's shoulder, but not before speaking to announce her presence. No sense startling the girl unnecessarily. "Hey Madeline, it's me, Olivia. What a beautiful song. Who's it by?"

But Madeline doesn't budge, or stop playing so Olivia sits beside Dr. Hendrix with a sigh. "How's she doing?"

Rebecca's shrug is anything but comforting. "In some ways much better. She will eat a little, _if_ we bring it to her at the piano, and now she'll more or less go along with our schedule here as far as quiet times are concerned, but she's still highly resistant to any of our advances. Normally for an elective mute we expect them to talk from the beginning without putting it to them as an option, and if they're still problematic we'll try to engage them with one of us as long as they're comfortable and then get the individual excited so we can, in a way, trick them into speaking without realizing it, like it's no big deal, but Madeline refuses to interact with us at all."

"She won't even write something on a piece of paper? Because she did that for me, twice." Olivia questions.

"We've tried," Rebecca shakes her head. "We're lucky if we can even get any kind of solid eye contact from her. The music therapist couldn't add much besides the general diagnosis of a withdrawn elective mute. He said she was highly expressive and that the piece she's playing is Fredric Chopin's e minor Nocturne, but other than that the part she's skipping has no real significance except to her, and we can't get inside her head to find out why. I don't know what kind of affect you have on her, but you seem to be the only person she'll even remotely respond to."

"Well I do have some new information that I really need to ask her about, but I worry how she'll take it."

"I'll stay to observe and back you up if need be. My next appointment's not for another half-hour." Dr. Hendrix grabs Olivia's hand as she stands, making their faces meet and Olivia's body tense involuntarily. "But remember she's currently unstable. Please handle her as gently as possible."

Madeline hears this over the twang of the piano but cannot see Olivia's nod. She doesn't like that, how Dr. Hendrix said "handle." As if she were some kind of object, a package with one of those cautions labels. She decides then to ignore the Detective because she's tired of being "handled" when she wants to forget everything. She just wants to be _normal_.

Now Olivia's dealt with an elective mute before, but the victim was much, much younger. A little six-year old boy named Tommy, who'd seen his loving step-mother killed in front of his very eyes. He'd been too traumatized to speak. It had taken her literally _hours_ over multiple days to earn his trust and get him to feel secure enough before he finally opened up to her. The badge helped a lot with that, and all the information she was able to give him proving that she knew about his hidden past.

But none of that worked with this girl. For children this terrified, she worked with a certain kind of magic: the belief that adults could solve everything and protect you simply by being adults. Madeline was too old to be blinded by that. All the adults in her life had already failed her, so how could she possibly think that Olivia would be any different? You couldn't blame the kid for staying silent, with all the stuff she'd gone through, and they didn't even know the half of it.

Pushing the thoughts from her brain, Olivia kneels on the floor next to the piano and looks up, but where she's used to seeing the emerald of Madeline's eyes she's met with a defiant chin. She clears her throat. "Madeline? I need to talk to you. Can you hear me?" The girl doesn't move an inch and Olivia hates what she's about to say next but they just don't have time to help cushion the fall anymore. "We found Candace Terpening's body, your sister. I know about the fire." Madeline's whole body stiffens, momentarily freezing before the pounding on the keys intensifies. Olivia purses her lips when something suddenly clicks as she recalls Rebecca's words – Chopin's e minor Nocturne. And the note from the killer, _tell Madeline to play the entire Chopin._ How did he know? "He left a message for you, saying the middle of your Chopin needs some work."

Olivia's prepared for a breakdown, but not for what she gets. In the blink of an eye Madeline has bolted upright, crashed over the piano bench and torn out of the room faster than Olivia can even think to reach for a leg and hold the girl back. The bench lands on her foot but she's already taking into the hallway after Madeline. **"Madeline!"** She yells, alarmed. Olivia has to go full out before she reaches her, yet finally she catches Madeline when she gets trapped against a doorway and Olivia wraps her arms entirely around the girl's upper body as Madeline struggles, kicking the walls and throwing her fists, which reminds Olivia that they are nearly equal in height. And she understands that panic will bring out an unknown fierceness in people, she's seen it many times before; nevertheless she still feels unprepared for this raw power that Madeline is tapping into.

Dr. Hendrix calls the nurses and tells Olivia to bring her back to the piano since it's the only place they've been able to soothe her before but Madeline is shrieking right into Olivia's ear. It makes her realize what Elliot must've went through when he had to carry a fighting perp from the interrogation room all the way into the rear closet while she had rushed ahead to open the door and break the overhead light.

But she cannot dwell long on her admiration for her partner because Madeline is demanding all of her attention as Olivia finally manages to literally hold her down on top of the piano bench, praying that Madeline will focus on her voice instead of whatever else she is hearing in her mind. "Madeline, Madeline it's okay, it's okay! You're safe here, I promise! I promise! Madeline, calm down, _please_ calm down." Rebecca takes Madeline's hands from underneath Olivia's arms and peacefully places them on the ivory surface, telling her to take a deep breath.

Madeline suddenly stops thrashing and this time she focuses directly on Olivia so she can see the red-rimmed tears of dread. "Sweetie please _talk_ to me so I can help you." Olivia prods and the music starts very hesitantly, a measure before where the girl usually skips. Madeline's pupils do not stray an inch from Olivia's until she has begun the middle section and then she loses herself in the delicate music.

Olivia feels Madeline tremble through the wood as she perches on the floor. She believes she has never heard anything so beautiful or soulful but she cannot help watching the sadness and anxiety in Madeline's face throughout the half minute or so that she is playing. Trills and runs of the beautiful melody fill the room. Right when the song should reach a climax it abruptly slows instead and Olivia recognizes the end of the section. Their eyes meet and the music fades as Madeline unexpectedly slides off the bench into Olivia's arms.

She's instantly sobbing. Embracing the fifteen year old, who fits in the space of her arms more like a five year old, Olivia can feel Madeline's fists – fists, not fingers, which in retrospect was strange – behind her back and she has no idea what is running through this girl's mind. The next thing she knows Madeline sucks in a halted breath and pulls away, but not before placing something small and slippery into Olivia's palms. It's two little metallic glass capsules tinted red. Olivia realizes the hue is Madeline's blood. _Dammit, not again._ She breathes and turns to find Madeline putting a finger up to her lips as if shushing someone, a desperate need for comprehension in her eyes. Where the bandages used to be there are now bleeding pockets of her skin. Olivia grabs Madeline's wrist to apply pressure and the girl mouths "He hears you." Olivia blinks, knowing there is more here than reaches the eye.

Dr. Hendrix quickly starts wrapping Madeline's wounds and Olivia leans into her right ear. "Fix her up but go on like normal. Take these and do not say _anything_ about us finding them." The capsules pass hands again and Olivia pats Madeline's knee before rushing out of the room with her cell in hand.

"Get me T.A.R.U. here now; I think I've found a way to track this perp."

**A/N: T.A.R.U. stands for Technical Assistance Response Unit, just in case anyone's forgotten! So hopefully everyone's fitting some pieces together because more excitement is coming ASAP and ya'll need to stay caught up! hee hee.**


	13. TARU At Work

Madeline has gone back to playing the piano but only gingerly, as if she has lost some of her sparkle. Then Elliot struts into the room unsuspectingly and Olivia quickly pulls her partner out into the hallway with T.A.R.U. catching on his heels.

The small lapse of time has allowed Olivia to figure out some things. "Back in the hospital she wasn't trying to kill herself, she was trying to take these things out! Madeline knew the capsules were there, she told me 'he hears you.' "

Elliot jumps in. "She talked to you?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. She mouthed it to me. But I didn't want to risk him discovering that we found them, so I left them in there near Madeline."

"Smart thinking," Rueben Morales emphasizes, totting a hardcover briefcase behind him. "If he suspects something he might disrupt the signal, and the longer these listening devices are transmitting the better chance we have of finding him and catching him off guard."

"So what's the plan?" Elliot peaks around the corner to get a good look at Madeline.

"If she keeps playing, the piano should cover up any noises from the equipment as long as we're careful. I'll just need to scan them and then once I've found the frequency I should be able to trace it back to its origin."

Nodding, Olivia asks, "How long will that take?"

"Depends on a couple of things, but with everything set up hopefully no more than fifteen-twenty minutes," the head of T.A.R.U. replies.

"Let's get crackin'." Elliot grins in Olivia's direction.

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"All right, got it. It's being received in a building on the corner of 47th and 9th in Queens."

Olivia and Elliot yank up their jackets and leave the room in a flurry of motion. "I'll call the captain; have him meet us there with a warrant from Novak."

Hands up for Elliot to toss her the keys, Olivia spurts, "I'll drive."

**A/N: Hi all! Just sending out a little disclaimer. So I actually honestly have no earthly idea about any kind of street names or relations for NYC or Queens or Brooklyn or anything, so I really just made that address up. tee hee. If anyone knows of a real little interesting place in that area let me know and I'll fit it in! Otherwise, I just started school back with 20 units (AAAHHH!!!) so unfortunately I'm afraid these updates will quickly become less frequent. I can promise to try to add a new chapter every weekend though, so check back soon and as always, review! The story's just now getting good!**


	14. Standstill

The team hovers by the corner of the building out of sight, confirming last minute details. "Okay," Elliot passes around a photo. "Keep an eye out for this one, he's our guy. We want him alive and well, no screwing around."

Olivia speaks up, "But be careful, we're going in blind and there could be civilians inside." Everyone nods. "We ready?" Olivia and Elliot take their positions on either side of the door, poised for its seams to be broken apart.

"Go, go, go!" Elliot motions with his left arm, then places the palm back on his gun as the team rushes inside even before the door fully crashes to the ground.

Matching each other step for step and shoulder for shoulder, these are the times when Elliot and Olivia exude their true perfect partnership; like when they are chasing a perp or when a victim is showing sensitivities to one of them over the other. Words are not necessary, even body language seems obsolete as they prowl through the house with unspoken formation, instinctively knowing which direction the other will head and exactly what angle needs to be covered at what moment by whom.

In no time at all, they hear a cry. "Show me your hands! Stand up and put your hands on your head! NOW!" Elliot points his gun at the man's face while Olivia rushes over to grab his hands and twist them behind his back to slap the cuffs on them. Looking in his face, you could tell he was thinking of running, but with every exit covered and guns trained on him from all directions, he knew he wouldn't make it.

"Brent Forrest, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and murder of Candace Terpening and the kidnapping, rape and reckless endangerment of Madeline Terpening." Olivia pushes his face to the floor and catches Elliot's eyes. "What?" She asks, incredulous. "He tripped." Elliot smiles knowingly, and tells the men to clean up the scene while Olivia reads the man his Miranda rights.

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Forrest is just sitting there, very casual with his collared oxford unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up. His black hair is in a crew cut while his go-tee is neatly styled and there is not a sign of stubble anywhere on his face. Everything about him looks very clean in fact, but the detectives know that inside his skin is just a black empty soul.

He lawyered up, much to the detectives' frustration, but not before he winks at Olivia. "She'll never talk to you. You've got nothing on me."

Cassandra "Casey" Novak waits with Cragen behind the two-way mirror for Elliot and a fuming Olivia. "Unfortunately, he's not far off."

"What?" they both shout.

"But you got us a warrant!" Olivia continues.

Novak throws up her hands. "Poker game. Look, we had probable cause but it's not adding up now. He used a condom and we have no physical evidence against him for Candace's death. We might have child endangerment for the listening devices, but all we really have is the kidnapping, and even that's going to be hard to prove without Madeline's testimony. Is she talking yet?"

"'Madelynn,'" Olivia corrects gently, almost a mumble, but Casey hears it just the same and can't help recognizing the strange tone in her friend's voice. She looks at Olivia for a moment and makes herself a mental note to make sure she doesn't mispronounce it again even though she doesn't quite understand Olivia's personal stake in this girl.

"And no," Olivia sighs. "I told Dr. Hendrix to tell Madeline that we have him in custody, but it didn't seem to affect her at all. I planned on going over there this afternoon, especially now that he's called for a lawyer."

Strands of Casey's loose blonde curls fall into her eyes as she rotates her head. "Without her corroboration, all I've got is a long shot at winning the case. A _very_ long shot. Tell you what, why don't you bring her down here; let her see that we have him? Maybe that will open her up."

"I agree. This girl knows something, else she would've talked by now." Cragen concurs.

"I'll call Hendrix, have her bring Madeline over." Elliot pipes up. Olivia looks at him questioningly. "Well someone's gotta sit on him," he explains, motioning. "And there's paper work to file for the raid. So pick your poison." Elliot finishes with a faint smile.

"Yeah, and I'll be expecting those on my desk by morning!" Cragen heads out the door in acknowledgement and Novak rolls her eyes while Olivia quickly sets herself up in the interior of the interrogation room.


	15. Bumps in the Road

**A/N: This chapter has been so very hard for me, you all have no idea! Just ask my friend Matt, who has been instrumental in helping me break through my writer's funk. (It wasn't really writer's block since I knew what I wanted to say and where I wanted to go, just not how I was going to do it.) Seriously, I rewrote the first two sentences at **_**least **_**ELEVEN times. Crazy, no? So as such, I am very proud to be posting this now for all of my dedicated readers (i.e. YOU!) to read. Please please **_**please**_** be the lovelies I know you are and tell me what you think in a review. I'll be ever grateful. I finally got Huang into this story, and in the following chapter (up soon, I promise!) we'll have a wonderful Elliot scene. (warm and fuzzy feelings) Also, I'm not sure about the title for this chapter... any better ideas? Tell me quick! Oh, and just so you know, **_Cyrano de Bergerac_ **is the play that Jennifer Garner (one of my favorite actors! So I of course couldn't resist throwing it in for fun) just finished. Enjoy! **

**-TangoSVU**

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Madeline's arms are tight against her chest, hands squashed over her eyes. Dr. Hendrix has to physically shove Madeline into the room by her shoulders. It's obvious that neither one of them wants to be there, and forcing Madeline to come has anger and anguish written all over Rebecca's face. Huang, who had come in earlier to profile Forrest, walks over and begins whispering into the other psychiatrist's ear.

Feeling quite left out and needing to explain things to the wary girl, Novak opens her mouth to speak. "I'm Casey Novak, Madeline, assistant district attorney. I'm the one who's gonna put this man through hell in court." Her speech has no affect on the girl – quite a strange experience for a woman who is used to rapt attention from her audience – so Novak places her hands around Madeline's in a gentle attempt to remove them from her face. "Look Madeline," she encourages. "We've _got_ him. He can't hurt you anymore. All we need is for you to tell us what happened." But Madeline fights Casey off, biting her lower lip, which Rebecca – along with Olivia if she had been in the room – has long since noted as Madeline's nervous attempting-to-control-herself habit.

"Madeline, my name is George Huang," he introduces himself, moving closer to her. "We all know this is difficult for you. We know he hurt you, we know that you didn't want him to, and for that he'll be in jail for a very long time, but I was wondering if you would be willing to help us do that. Is there anything we can do to make you feel more comfortable?"

He's talking to her like an adult, Madeline notices, like she has a right to decide how she wants to live her life. She doesn't know how to respond to that, so she keeps her eyes closed and waifs her fingers out in front of her instead until she feels the cold of the glass beneath them. He's in there. Sitting there, yielding all the power on his tongue. She presses her palms flat as a shiver crawls down her spine and wonders how thick the mirror is, how long it will take for him to break through and reach her.

Dr. Hendrix watches Madeline, trying to figure out what is going on inside her head, willing for Madeline to be receptive to George, to someone, even if it isn't her, and in her concentration accidentally leans against a button on the control box.

"Do you go to any plays on Broadway? I tried to go see_ 'Cyrano de Bergerac'_ while it was out, but didn't get a chance." Olivia's words explode inside the room, but what follows to cut her off is even more dynamic.

"SHUT UP YOU BITCH! I told you I want a fucking lawyer!"

Olivia's counter is casual and calm, as if Forrest had not yelled at her at all, but the rest of the conversation is lost on the members outside as the effect of his voice is fully realized in Madeline. Immediately her hands shoot off the mirror as if they've been burned and she rushes blindly in the direction of the door with a tiny yelp, eyes still shut.

Novak, purely by accident, waits almost at the entryway and manages to catch the girl smack in the chest like a football tackle. "Madeline!" Casey exclaims, more startled than hurt as she discovers the liquid green of Madeline's eyes piercing into her own matching pair. Taken aback, Casey cannot force herself to turn away. She's seen that look before, a look she's sworn for years to erase from her dreams. But in her dreams those eyes belong to Charlie, her schizophrenic fiancé who died a few months ago. They are full of terror, pain, and a desperate need to be understood. They are crying out for help. Help that Casey could not give. She swallows, afraid of failing again, and clutches Madeline tight to her body in as much of an attempt to comfort the hiccupping girl as to sway her own conscience. Now she understands Olivia's actions, somehow they've all managed to land themselves inside Madeline's delicate and tragic plight.

"Look," she faces the two doctors who seem to be having an entire conversation between them without speaking, which only feeds the fire of her resolve even more because she thinks they've all had quite enough silence already. "We don't have to do this right now." Casey knows she's just contradicted herself, but she has a picture in her head of a little girl with brown hair who, despite Casey's stubborn urgings, couldn't identify her abuser; a picture of a little girl reduced to tears, and Casey will not let herself cause something like that to happen again. "Come on Madeline," she encourages, tucking the girl's arm beneath her own. "I'll get you a drink from the machine out in the hall, okay?"

All Madeline hears is "out" and finds her feet moving beneath her. She doesn't want to be here, doesn't want him to be able to see her. She disobeyed, she disobeyed and that terrifies her because she doesn't know how she can make him understand that she never meant for any of this to happen. She feels hands on the small of her back; an arm around her waist which is gently leading her away and Madeline tries to relax as her tears turn into jerky sniffles. She just wants to feel safe again, like Olivia promised, like this woman implied. She just wants someone to hold her – Ms. Novak, Olivia, Candace, her mom, _anyone_ – because she feels so small and helpless and scared as his voice, that horrifying god-awful voice rings in her ears. _"I love you Madeline, but that won't stop me from killing you, so you'd better do what I say."_

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Elliot sees Novak leading a crying Madeline out of the room and gets up from his desk. "What the hell is going on?" He roars at Huang and Rebecca before the door he is vaguely pointing at can even shut behind him.

George puts his hands up in mock defense more aimed at placating the man than anything else. "She just needs to calm down for a moment, Elliot. She'll be okay."

"Yeah right. Okay after everything that bastard did to her?"

"It's a process, Elliot." Huang replies. "Everything will work itself out in time."

"Well this case doesn't have much time," Casey interludes, slipping herself back into the room in front of their Captain. "Munch's got her upstairs," she answers the question they all want to ask her.

"Great," Elliot mumbles. "Leave the fragile kid with the most cynical person in this entire department."

Everyone hides their snickers before Casey moves on. "We have got to find some way to make this girl talk to us."

Elliot taps on the window for Olivia and then makes space for her as she comes out. "So let's use those brains you all supposedly have that the state is paying you for and figure out a plan." Cragen commands his troops, and then throws in a comment from the peanut gallery. "The kid's obviously freaked and the perp won't talk."

Huang puts his training to use. "Forrest is all about the scare tactic. Instead of his body he'd rather use words for control."

Olivia nods. "That fits. I watched, but no matter how angry he got in there, he never so much as clenched a fist."

"Which means, with all those months that he had her in his company, Forrest has had plenty of time to terrorize Madeline into her silence." Cragen says.

"It's true," Huang agrees. "She's probably more afraid of him talking to her than him hurting her again."

"We're never going to be able to make her comfortable enough to talk to us." Hendrix pipes up.

"Then why did she write to me?" Olivia wonders out-loud and Huang continues.

"She only wrote to you at the hospital, correct?" Olivia blinks. "And you kept telling her that you were going to get the person who'd hurt her, right?"

"So what?" Olivia tries to understand the supposed significance but her raised eyebrows betray her confusion.

Hendrix takes over for a moment, her schooling and personal experience coming into play. "So she knew he was listening and she probably wanted to tell you to stop but couldn't risk him hearing her, so she did the only thing she thought she could realistically get away with in order to make you be quiet."

"But the devices are gone now, she knows that. Why don't we let Liv go at her again?" Elliot suggests.

"No," Hendrix retorts. "It's too late."

Huang adds. "She's right." Looking at Olivia, "I'm sorry, but Madeline's too close to you. You've allowed her silence. If she hasn't talked to you by now, she won't."

"So what can we do?" Novak says, pushing herself back into the conversation while resting a hand on Olivia's shoulder in order to help calm her friend's frustration at the situation and stop her from saying something offensive that Casey knows the detective won't mean later.

"Madeline's used to being manipulated, but that doesn't mean she'll roll over. If we can get her to a place emotionally where she feels she's allowed to fight back she'll be forced to let go of her barrier. We'll need another man to do it though, since it was a man who first took it away." His gaze slides over to Elliot.

Hendrix opposes again. "I think we've put this kid through enough. She can't handle anything more."

"And I don't feel comfortable badgering a victim!" Elliot's loud protest overlaps Rebecca's just as Olivia speaks up her disagreement too.

"There's got to be something else we can do rather than intimidate her into talking to us! Then how's she ever supposed to trust us?"

Cragen puts his hands up defensively to dispel the tension in the group as Casey jumps in.

"I don't know what to tell you," Casey sighs, "I don't like the idea any more than you guys, but we all know as soon as his lawyer gets here, Forrest will be out before supper, and I can guarantee you Madeline won't say anything once he's back on the street awaiting trial." She puts one foot out the door in retreat. "You update me on what happens. I'll be in my office trying to find another way to keep him."

Elliot's jaw tightens as he looks at Huang and Cragen asks the question everyone else is thinking but not saying. "Is there no other way?"

Rebecca drops her shoulders. "Nothing in the amount of time we're looking at. Unfortunately I think he's right. Madeline's got so much pent up the only way she's going to wear down is if we back her into a corner. It's our best shot, Elliot."

"I don't want to lose her," Olivia adds sadly, looking into his eyes and recalling a time when he had to literally bring her to tears in order to convince a female perp to confess. "But you can do this, Elliot. Just be sure to catch the pieces when she breaks."

He stares past her, momentarily spacing out and then brushes his hands across his head in defeat. "Fine," he breathes, exasperated. "Let's just get this over with so I can go give Brent Forrest a piece of my mind." And four pairs of eyes watch him walk away.


	16. Outburst

**A/N: Yay for lots of angst! Haha. I'm so evil. Even threw in a tiny little E/O moment for all of us shippers out there. God knows we love it! We really get to see two different sides of Elliot here, and a great Casey moment, so please everyone REVIEW ALREADY! Come on, I know there's at least 16 of you who have put this on your story alert (16! thax!) but I'm not getting anything near 16 reviews per chapter. Share the love people! I really want to know what you're thinking. But on that note, much thanks to TVCrazed who gave me an excellent idea in their review for this chapter. Now, read away, I demand of you! giggles**

**TangoSVU**

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Ms. Novak, the beautiful young blonde woman, gave her this pop to drink, but Madeline is just twisting it inside her hands because she doesn't have anything else to do. She takes notice of the bustling bodies working in the office down below her and yet here she is on the couch in this land of mindboggling limbo.

It's so different from how she had been living. It was hard enough to grasp when she was in the thick of it, but now she feels lost without it. Rejoining the world – which apparently hadn't thought to change – when everything about her life _had_ changed… Madeline shakes her head in an attempt to clear her mind. She just can't make sense of anything right now.

Suddenly she hears footsteps and turns toward the stairs where a man – Detective Stabler? – waits, brooding. His presence is so domineering it's like he's literally forcing his existence across the room and Madeline sinks further into the cushions. She's scared, but tries to take deep breaths. Olivia trusts him; she told Madeline that she did.

"What are you doing?" He barks, so stern. Her heart beats faster. She pinches her eyes. If she doesn't see it, she can't talk about it, and if she can't talk about it, it didn't happen. That logic has worked for her before, it's got to work now too.

"I _said_, what are you doing?" He's closer to her now, so close she can feel the strength of his muscles vibrate through the floor. "Look at me when I talk to you!" His hand smacks the coffee table and the harsh crack makes her jump like the magazine that crashes to the floor.

She squints painfully up at him, the ice of her blood coursing through her veins with a shiver. His eyes are so cold. What has she done? Why is he so angry at her? Elliot. That's what Olivia called him. She told Madeline Elliot was okay. That's what she said. She said it at the hospital. _"His name is Elliot Stabler. He's ok, it's ok. He would never ever hurt you."_

"Why have you lied to me?" Elliot asks. "Brent told us everything. Why did you even bother going to the hospital at all you stupid little tramp? You knew he'd find you, you knew we'd find out what you did, what you're like."

Tears are slipping out of her eyes but she can't make them go away, not even with her fists. This isn't fair, this isn't fair. She's so tired, tired of everything being twisted around and confused, tired of being hurt, tired of being walked on, tired of being controlled.

He continues yelling at the top of his lungs, his face is turning red and he looks like he's going to hit her. "What about Candace?" She cringes when he mentions her sister but he just won't stop. "You're just a _liar_! You _lied_ to Brent, you _lied_ to us, and worst of all, you _lied_ to my _partner_!"

Instantly she leaps up from the couch to face him directly and lets out an irrepressible screeching outburst. "I _never_ lied to Olivia! You don't understand! I didn't mean to run away, I didn't mean to disobey!" Madeline's fists pound forcibly into Elliot's chest as the coarseness of her voice begins to fade with each repetition that tumbles past her lips like an uncontrollable waterfall. "I didn't mean to run away, I didn't mean to run away, I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"

And then she's wailing these angry cries to match the beating of her knuckles and Elliot's heart breaks without even noticing the blooming flower bruises beneath his skin. He remembers Olivia's words, _"Just be sure to catch the pieces."_ Madeline's about the size of his daughter Lizzie, he notices suddenly but Madeline doesn't have a father of her own anymore, so he instinctively goes to pull her close to him just as Olivia rushes up the stairs, jolted into action when she heard the strange new voice speaking her name.

But Madeline sees Olivia through the tears and yanks away from Elliot to point her finger at Olivia, accusation thick in her screams. "You _promised_ me! You _told_ me he was okay, that it was okay, that he would _never ever_ hurt me, but he _did_! He's not okay, nothing is okay!" Olivia tries to get nearer so she can explain herself but like a trapped wild animal, Madeline takes in her surroundings and realizes she is extremely boxed in. **"Get away from me!"**

The detectives watch helplessly as Novak pushes between them to get to Madeline, who has backed herself into a wall. The edginess of Elliot's exterior is immediately forgotten as he turns to Casey. "I thought you were at your office?"

She glares at them. "Could've heard this from Staten Island." and they know even without Casey's look that they should go, that by staying they'll just be making the situation worse. Elliot puts his hand on Olivia's shoulder to turn her away but her fingers grasp the edges of his shirt with a choked gasp and he's forced to almost carry his partner down the stairs, leaving the world of broken lives behind them only a little less broken.

Casey tries to pick Madeline up from the floor but ends up having to almost pull the girl onto her lap. "Madeline," she wracks her brain for words and wishes she'd thought of something else to say because normally in these instances "ssshhh" would work but that's exactly opposite of what they need right now. Luckily the girl responds first.

"I'm _not_ a liar," she whispers to the ADA, her desperation coming through her conviction and she's surprised to find her voice still in her command while somehow managing to lose herself in the delicate strands of Casey's hair. "I know I wasn't supposed to run away, he told me to wait! But I just got scared." Their eyes meet, charged with emotions neither one can name, full of memories they're afraid to face alone. "He raped us and then just left us there! Mr. Forrest killed Candace with the mask because she disobeyed but I was all alone and I got scared! I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to and I didn't lie!"

Casey cradles Madeline's head into her shoulders with a sigh and begins to rock back and forth slowly. "Ssshhh," she comforts, because the rest of it can wait. Without knowing it, Madeline's already given Casey everything she needs to put the bastard away.

**A/N: And we're off to Casey's ball field next... Court! dum dum**


	17. Court Cats

**A/N: Yay for Casey! I was tired of her only getting to toss in some excellent one-liners every so often, so I was determined to give her an entire kick butt scene, whoop! Don't worry, it won't be the last. I love her character. And in case everyone's forgotten (or hasn't stayed current), Sophie Devere is a character portrayed by Annie Potts in a few episodes, the most recent being "Impulsive" with Melissa Joan Heart. Hurray! And sorry it took me so long to write and update this new scene. I'm only a one man show, so unlike the usual episode writers, I don't have access to experts (goes for law and medical for our next chapter!) and wanted to research court stuff until I was comfortable writing this chapter. Enjoy! And please review! I've already written the next chapter but I'm not quite ready to post it just yet.**

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Novak smoothes down her gray suit with its satin green shirt as the Honorable Judge Lena Petrovsky calls the arraignment to order with her gavel. "People vs. Forrest. How does your client plead?"

Brent's lawyer, Sophie Devere in all her brown-curled glory, pipes up. "Not guilty."

Petrovsky motions toward Casey. "Recommendations for bail?"

Casey's face clearly shows her shock and disgust. "I wasn't aware bail was offered for crimes of this nature with the murder charge."

"The people have no evidence on which to base such a crime," Sophie practically shouts explicitly in Novak's direction.

"Your Honor we not only have a body but also the testimony of an eye witness to the attack who was herself a victim of this man," Novak defends.

"A witness yet to be released from Belleview's psychological ward."

The inference to Madeline creates a protest to bubble up from beneath Casey's diaphragm, a protest for more than merely upholding justice. "Which is only a testament to the inherent danger of releasing Brent Forrest out on bail."

"Alright enough," The gavel bangs again as the two lawyers turn their seething glares to the Judge. "While I agree with Ms. Devere, I'd rather air on the side of caution here, and I trust that Ms. Novak would not put an unstable witness on the stand." She raises her eyebrows towards Casey before finalizing her decision. "Bail is denied. Bailiff?"

The two attorneys turn together towards the middle while gathering their stuff and quite obviously balk over who passes first.

Casey finally relents with rolling eyes and a grunt. "Why the rush? I didn't realize you were so worried about winning this case," she goads, following.

"I've got this case in the bag and you know it," Sophie spits in response as the doors swing closed behind them and the tapping of their shoes echoes loudly across the marble floor.

Casey smiles. "The Prosecution's bag."

By now they have crossed through the main lobby and are on their way down the courthouse steps outside. Even the chill of the wind does nothing to still the fire inside each lawyer's heart.

Sophie stops briefly, "You'll have my indictments by the end of the week."

"If only I needed them,"

The two women stop and face each other in contempt, a cat fight of the minds. As personal as it seems, it's really just more about winning their case and the other lawyer is merely an obstacle to beat down along the way no matter the force.

"See you in court," her words icy.

Casey tosses her retort over her shoulder to the defense attorney's back, not even bothering with a face-to-face response. "Sucks for you."


	18. It's Not Over Yet

**A/N: So I took the advice of one of my quite dedicated readers (Matt!) and have decided to split the really long chapter I had planned into three smaller sections. Makes titles a little more difficult, but meh, I figure the end result is all the same, and I get to tease you all with only tiny slices of the whole picture for longer. Aren't I awful. ;-) But if it's any consolation, reviews really help give me ideas, boost my confidence, and write the story faster. (hint hint!) Once these three little chapters are over with only two more are in the plans, so ya'll better enjoy this story while you can! Besides, now's your opportunity to tell me how YOU think the story should finish out (I tend to be highly susceptible to outside suggestions). Also, once again for a little disclaimer, Wikipedia is my best friend right now because I HAVE NO MEDICAL BACKGROUND. Unless you include my three day stay in the hospital when I was nine, and the many x-rays I've had… Maybe I should just let you get on with the story now. :-)**

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Elliot and Olivia cross the threshold into M.E. Melinda Warner's lair, aka the autopsy laboratory. They hold their breath as Warner covers up a fresh body from another case before Elliot speaks. "We could've collaborated our victim's story over the phone, why'd you call us down?"

Both detectives watch her face intently. "Well first off, your girl definitely had prolonged sexual trauma. I determined some of the scaring to the genitalia to be nearly a year old."

Warner watches them share a look but continues. "There are no signs of frequent abuse. She wasn't malnourished, x-rays only revealed a long-healed fracture of the right radius, and there was no blunt force trauma."

"So what killed her?" Olivia's confusion is obvious.

"That's where things get strange. The oxygen level in her blood was virtually nil."

Elliot brushes against the table, causing the corpse's left hand to slide off. He backs away. "She suffocated? But there aren't any strangulation bruises."

"You know how hospitals will use masks to transfer oxygen directly to a patient? I think your guy hooked up a tank of carbon dioxide instead." Warner assesses. "Diver's often call it the bends but in the medical field we refer to is as hypercapnia. There was a cut on the victim's tongue as well. Prolonged exposure to CO2 can cause seizures. The effects are easily reversible but there is a time limit. Your girl missed it. Poisoned without leaving a visible mark.

"But that's not what I called you down for," Warner adds before they can get irritated. "I found some blood on the lining of Candace's underwear that matches a sample from Madeline's underwear, but it doesn't belong to either girl. I think you've got a third victim."

"Zoe," It escapes in a whoosh of breath from Elliot's lips right before he leaps into accusations. "How come you didn't tell us this before?"

"The hospital had already established it was a different blood type than Madeline's, so I only ran it through the system. I had no reason to run a DNA and gender analysis on it!" Warner defends.

But Elliot and Olivia are already rushing out the door. He nods in her direction. "I'll work up Forrest, you take Madeline."


	19. Past Life Account

Madeline is back in Belleview by now but the progressive changes are already quite evident. Her eyes are brighter, the dark circles slowly disappearing in the light of her room where Olivia meets her after lunch. In fact, Madeline is chomping down on a frosted sugar cookie when Olivia enters.

"How are you feeling? You look better." The girl swallows but doesn't answer. Both individuals are trying to hide the awkwardness they feel, and not too successfully. Olivia sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed, placing a hand gently on Madeline's right knee. "I'm sorry, about what happened. About everything."

Once again Olivia finds herself lost in the strangeness of Madeline's straightforward gaze, giving her the feeling that she's being seen through completely as if she were invisible, and yet simultaneously deeply and painfully introspective. She wonders how this kid held on to that, how it has not been tainted.

"I know you were scared," Olivia continues softly, pushing down her fear that Madeline has stopped talking again. "But we didn't know what else to do. We were just trying to help you."

Graciously, Madeline stops her. "Elliot apologized too. It's okay. You were just doing your job."

Olivia watches her bite her lip and decides not to push it. "Madeline, what happened?"

Neither one pretends they don't understand the question. "He would talk to me," she starts hesitantly. "On my way home from school. He was always working on something out in his yard, like old radios and video cameras, that kind of stuff. Candace would ask him about it all. I told her not to, that he creeped me out, but she said I was being stupid. After a few years, she went off to college, and I found a different route to walk home. That day, mom was off work, and my dad took a day shift so we could celebrate Candace's grades. My sister saw him out the window, took him a piece of pie."

She smiles, remembering. "It was lemon meringue, her favorite. He came to return the plate. " Madeline pauses again, her voice suddenly still and void of emotion. "The next thing I knew, Mom and Dad were gagged and tied up in the kitchen."

Then she's gone; Olivia knows it but isn't sure if Madeline does or not so Olivia just takes the girl's hand to hold her through the reliving of these memories, to let her know, somewhere in her subconscious, that someone will be there with her through it all, that Olivia will be there when the end came like it always did, when the pieces fell apart. And Olivia determines to catch the pieces. God, she won't just catch them, she'll hold onto them with all she has. It's the only thing she has to offer this girl now. The rest of it has been taken out of her hands. But Olivia will give Madeline anything her soul can bear, everything she possibly can.

Flashback:

_Candace is crying. It makes me scared because I can't remember the last time Candace cried. I hear screams so I put my hands over my ears. "Madeline! Madeline run! Go!" It's Candace; she's behind our neighbor, Mr. Forrest. But he doesn't look like the same man. There's something in his eyes; he's twisting his lips together. My heart is beating too fast and my feet won't move. I don't know what's happening. Where's my mom? Wasn't she talking with Candace and my dad in the kitchen? Daddy!_

_Mr. Forrest is wrapping this rope around my wrist and pushing me down the hall. Candace is still screaming. "Fight back Madeline! Yell! Spit in his face! Kick him! Madeline we have to get away! He's going to kill us!" What did she say? Why would Mr. Forrest kill us? I don't understand, I don't understand._

_"Shut up Candace!" That's Mr. Forrest's voice, only the voice doesn't sound like his, it's not the way he used to say her name. He's really angry. He's pulling me toward my sister. His arm flings back and I think he's gonna hit her. I want to put my hands over my eyes but he won't let go. He won't let go and I can't move against him. I can't stop him._

_Now there's a match, between his fingers and Mr. Forrest is striking it against this rough spot on the wall. I didn't know you could light a match that way. I almost ask for one to see if he'll let me try it myself, the way he would let Candace tweak things on his worktable when we used to come by after school, but my lips won't move and suddenly we're inside the kitchen._

_My parents are there, sitting at the table like it's any other meal but they're not talking and Candace is still crying. It's hard to tell if she's talking to me or Mr. Forrest, who's hurting my arm. I don't understand. I don't understand._

_"Madeline! Look what he did to Mom and Dad! Help me! We have to get out; he's going to kill us!" It's my name, yet the words aren't clear._ Look at Mom and Dad. Look at Mom and Dad._ Mom and Dad?_

_Now I realize the reason they're not talking is because they have towels around their mouths and are tied up to chairs. They're not moving. I can't even tell if they're breathing. Panic rises like puke in my throat and my knees buckle so fast I fall to the floor even though Mr. Forrest is still grabbing onto me._

_The match flies._

_Flames erupt on top of the stove._

_Someone screams._

_Candace hits me, I think Mr. Forrest pushed her down. Now we're both on the floor and my butt is going numb. The air is hot and congested but the tiles are cold._

_"Watch!" Mr. Forrest yells. "Watch while your parents burn to death, see what happens, because if you disobey, your punishment will be worse! Candace, Madeline, I love you, but that won't stop me from killing you, so you'd better do what I tell you." He says it wrong. How can he love me if he can't even pronounce my name? I wish Candace would correct him._

_"Stop!" She says instead. "Please stop! Let them go! Let us go! Please!" Candace is begging._

_"Watch!" He's angry. Mr. Forrest is tearing at my face but my hands are over my eyes. I'm so scared. I can't look. I can't look. I just want to be somewhere else. If I close my eyes maybe this will all fade away. I would do anything to be somewhere else right now because this isn't real._

_It can't be. I get good grades in school. I placed in last month's Young Artist Concerto Competition. My parents aren't divorced. My sister loves me, gives me advice, let's me wear her clothes. I'm not one of those girls. The ones whose houses are burning down. The ones whose parents are dying when they're still a teenager. The ones whose sisters are begging a stranger to get out of their house and leave them alone. The ones whose lives are falling apart right before their eyes. I'm not one of those girls. I can't be because none of this is real. This. Is. Not. Reality._

_Then a noise; one of those noises that you always expect to be loud. No, not just loud but piercing, deafening. The sound of a palm hot against a cheek. Candace slapped Mr. Forrest. I don't know how she did it with her hands tied up like mine, especially since I didn't see it, but I know that's what happened because that's how the wind came over me, carrying the noise. Only I can barely hear it over the crackle of the fire._

_It's spread to the curtains over the sink, turning their pale pink into a blazing yellow-red. I can't even see the flowers on them anymore. My mom hand painted them. A whole field of beautiful, delicate pansies in all shades of purple and white and fuchsia. She always wanted to be an artist._

_"Leave us alone! Go away or I swear I'll," It's Candace again, only Mr. Forrest cuts her off._

_"Or you'll what?" He smiles; I can hear it in his voice, the scary kind of smile. "Baby, you're gonna regret that."_

_He pulls her up off the floor, then me, yanking my hands away from my face so I can see. I can't close my eyes. I can't move. I want to scream. I will my mind to suck in air and release it fast for all to hear. But I can't breathe. There's a rag, tight over my mouth. So tight I have to bite it between my teeth._

_The fabric should help with the smoke but it doesn't; I'm choking on it. Candace won't stop coughing between her screams. I can barely see her and I keep blinking but the stinging just gets worse. The cloth doesn't stop the smell either. I used to love the smell, like the campfires Candace would set during the cool summer nights when I was younger and we tried to count the stars. Candace used to tell me that people would make shapes out of the stars and create all these grand stories about gods and battles to match. I would curl up next to her as she told me the stories of Andromeda and Orion and Zeus and many more that I couldn't name until the rhythm of her voice against my skin and the smoke from the fire would put me to sleep._

_But this isn't just wood smoke in my nose now, it's melting paint and a giant looming tendril of charring flesh. The fire is eating my parents. I'm an orphan. I belong to this man who used to be my neighbor Mr. Forrest. I don't know who he is anymore._

_But whoever this man is, he kisses Candace on the mouth. She throws her head back in protest. Then he kisses me. I wonder why he would want to with the rag still there but it does nothing to deter his advances. He kisses my cheeks first, then my temple, then my closed eyelids. By the time he reaches my lips I've stopped breathing. Is this always how a first kiss feels? He is gentle, soft and quiet but it tastes like dirt as he rubs across them. Candace kicks him, makes him break away. In retaliation he pushes her into the back door and my body involuntarily follows because she's clinging to my hand as if that will save us, a plume of smoke billowing out behind us as we break through. He laughs._

_It's dark but somehow the moon is still brighter than the raging fire. He picks Candace up to take us away to a place outside the city and somehow I allow myself to be tugged behind my sister. My older sister who is crying like a baby. I'm not crying. The world is upside down. Wrong is right, new is old, beginnings are endings, pain is beauty, cruelty is love. My eyes are closed. I'm one of those girls._

End Flashback

Suddenly she's back in the present. Olivia watches the color slowly replenish in her face and squeezes her hand when the girl shivers. Then Madeline wipes a stray tear, seemingly finished. Olivia pauses to let her recover. "Is that when you started cutting?"

The sincerity in Olivia's voice startles Madeline. Nobody's mentioned it in the hospital besides restricting her "sharps" or whatever they call them when she first got here. She figured everyone had just forgotten, even though she hadn't. Story of her life. But now that it's been brought up Madeline's nervous, ashamed. She hugs her arms to her chest tightly. "Sort of."

She bites her lip; stares at the floor until patterns show up. "One night I found this sharp metal edge, like it'd been broken off of something. I was crying a little so it was hard to see and I stepped on it by accident. It hurt, a little," She laughs that teenager laugh, the mock confidence underlined by this desperation, a need for acceptance, understanding. "but then it felt better. The tears stopped. He never usually took my shirt off – he wasn't very hands on, at least not with me. So I tried it on my arm; kept doing it." Madeline braves a look at Olivia's face, her lip wavering uncontrollably. "Am I crazy?"

Olivia breathes deep, securely pulling the girl's hands into her own before replying. "Absolutely not. All the things you've been through would be difficult for anyone to handle, much less as well as you have. And you're not alone either. Many people resort to that kind of behavior during traumatic times in their lives, especially victims. They find it easier to deal with physical pain rather than emotional. A lot of times no one knows what's happening and they don't have anyone to reach out to, so they cut themselves instead."

Madeline nods enthusiastically. "I didn't even tell Candace! It was my secret. I didn't want to hurt her."

" But it's dangerous and just as addicting as drugs." Olivia explains. "There's always a better way to deal with problems." She struggles to make the words express exactly what she means to tell the girl. "You know there're lots of people who are just waiting to help you. And not just here at the hospital either. I know Casey and Elliot really want to make things better for you if you'll let them," Gently, she touches two fingers to Madeline's chin to make their eyes meet. "And I will always be here for you, no matter what. I don't care if it's three in the morning, if you need me, you've got me. You know that right?"

Madeline blinks, processing this information. Then her hand reaches up to Olivia's face, tenderly brushing a strand of hair to its rightful place behind the older woman's ear before nodding solemnly. Olivia stares into Madeline's eyes with a strange sense of longing. There is so much she wishes she could give her; so much Olivia thinks she has to offer. Because here, in front of her, is this girl who has nothing. Absolutely everything has been taken away from her except herself. And then there's Olivia, the woman who tosses herself away for the slightest chance at compensating for… for what? The quiet of the room surrounds the two, both of them momentarily lost in their thoughts until the thing that has been prickling the back of Olivia's mind makes itself known.

"What happened to Candace?" Olivia finally asks intently.

And the details keep coming, pulled from her soul one after the other in an unbroken line. Madeline's voice is flat, like it's only a stranger's story that she's memorized a thousand times over, as if adding any sort of relation or feeling to them would destroy the world. Olivia just waits, listening. Sometimes words of comfort are more counterproductive than beneficial, and in all reality Olivia doesn't know what to say, doesn't think there is a word in the English language that would help make this any less painful.

"She was always defiant." Madeline sniffles. "Always causing trouble. She would kick him, bite him, scream." She goes to laugh but stops abruptly, as if realizing the irreverence of it all. "But he petrified me." A cough to clear her throat and then she's gone again, lost in the world of unwanted recollections.

Flashback:

_There's nothing distinct, about where Candace and I are being held. In the movies and on TV, the police always want to know things about the surroundings. Were you underground? Did you hear water? Was there a window you could look out? Did you ever see anything with a name on it, like a take-out bag? I asked Candace once if she noticed anything like that, and she told me to shut up, that he would hear us. But I wrinkled my eyebrows and told her we could whisper real quiet._

_She looked at me then, sadness thick in her eyes. I blink, startled by the introspective gaze. She tells me she's sorry, that I'm too young to have to handle all this, that she will do everything she can to keep me safe. And I almost don't notice, but while she's talking, her fingers begin swirling in the dust layer on the floor, and the swirls become words. I struggle hard to listen and read at the same time, not knowing which is more important._

_The details come slowly, painfully so as she keeps erasing in fear of him coming, or in order to write more. But eventually I get my answer, whether I really wanted it or not._

_See, Candace woke up before I did after he first brought us here, but she pretended she was still sleeping and that's when she saw him, how she found out. He had all his electronics out on a wooden bench. Then he put a tiny capsule inside a syringe and walked over to me. Candace thought about screaming but watched instead. The mechanism rested against the skin on the underside of my wrist and released the capsule with a soft thwit sound. Candace flinched involuntarily and then froze, eyes closed tight. The sound again. Then the beeping of machinery, and his voice._

_"Hello, hello, hello."A breath, in, out, in, another beep. "Testing one, two, three." A laugh. He picked up Candace's wrist. She bit her tongue to stop herself from shouting out. "I hear you!" He snickered. "You'll never run away from me now. I'll follow you wherever you go. Ah, the wonders of modern technology." And then he left, taking the machines with him._

_She says she almost didn't believe it, because her wrists hurt but she thought it was just the bruises from being bound. But unlike me, she could always face what she saw and believe it. She says that's why we had to be quiet about things like that, because he'll always hear us and then we'll never be able to escape._

_I almost call out. Escape?! But she slaps her hand across my mouth. It frightens me so much I almost start crying._

_Then Candace becomes my old sister again, the girl I remembered, hugging me close so I would know it was okay and whispering about the Greek gods who started out as weak victims and then fought back. The underlings taking control. Like the story of Hephaestus, who was crippled and thrown from the sky to become a carpenter and in turn created a magical throne which captured the wife of Zeus and wouldn't release her until Hephaestus was given Aphrodite, the goddess of love, as his wife. Or Ganymede, who was kidnapped by Zeus and later became not just immortal, but a cupbearer to the gods._

_And then there was Demeter and her daughter Persephone. Demeter controlled the seasons, meaning she could also destroy all life. Four different gods wanted Persephone but Demeter rejected them and hid her daughter away, only to have Hades abduct her and prison her into the underworld. Demeter never stopped looking for her daughter and she was so powerful she got Zeus to force Hades to release Persephone. Persephone wasn't helpless though. She made the best of her situation, even choosing to stay in Hades for three-fourths of each year, becoming the goddess of the underworld so that it was forbidden to speak her name. She later gave birth to Heracles (the true version of Disney's Hercules)._

_Candace's favorite is Medusa, a beautiful young woman who was raped by Poseidon in Athena's temple where she was a priestess. In her rage, she altered her gorgeous hair into snakes and made her face so ugly that any man who saw it turned into stone. But even after Perseus beheaded her, the site of her still destroyed everyone in deathly retribution. That's like Candace. If we ever get out of here, I know she'll find a way to make him pay. Meanwhile I keep getting stuck on the fact that Medusa died, and was pregnant with her rapist's baby too. My brain stops there. I make it stop in that endless sphere of time, and try to sleep there in my sister's arms, but it's too hard._

_All the stuff experts say about background noises and how blind people are often more reliable witnesses because of their other senses is just bull. A great whole load of bullshit. There's nothing in this place, even though I close my eyes. Nothing but violence and misery, which is a place all its own, a world that overpowers everything else._

_He's brought the mask again. Last time he used it, it fizzed out before he was finished, so he went to get a new tank. Candace is calling him names again. Awful horrid names, names that would get my mouth washed out with soap if my mother heard. Except my mother won't hear._

_I hate it when she does this. Makes him fight for what he wants. It all ends the same anyway. He holds her hands until she's too weak to struggle, the mask turning her limp so she can only whimper. Once he's finished she goes right to sleep. He likes me to watch. He stares at me while Candace fades in and out._

_When he's not here, Candace holds me close, as if it were possible for her to create a barrier that would keep him from me, as if she could protect me like an older sister should. Her strawberry blonde curls tickle my nose. She tells me she would die if she didn't fight him, that she has to hold on to who she is, no matter how much he takes or how little is left. Candace calls him a rapist like it's the complete and total truth. But he says he loves us, says he is doing this out of love, that he has so much love for us he can't control himself. I don't see how love could do things like this, or be included in rape. I don't understand anything. I'm just confused. She tells me it's okay, that she won't let him hurt me. In the beginning it works. He only makes me watch._

_Now the mask works faster and faster, and when she falls asleep, he comes to me. But I don't tell her that, when she wakes up. She needs to believe she's keeping me safe. Besides, I can convince myself it didn't happen anyway, because I don't see anything. He doesn't make me look if I'm good. He'll even sing me a song, during. If I tell him I like it. So I do. He stops using the mask on me because he knows I won't fight him and I don't. I don't do anything._

_There's a place inside you, so deep that most people don't even know it's there. But if you can get there just once, you can always find it again. That's what I know. That place within my soul where I am always safe, where I can just stand back and let those things happen to someone else, a place where I don't feel any pain at all._

_I wonder if Candace goes there too. But being here makes everything seem crazy, so I think maybe that place is crazy too, and admitting to it would make it go away and I need it so I don't talk about it. I just live in it, and pray Candace does too._

_Sometimes I can't stay there long though, my thoughts get too jumbled. Then the piano helps. He brought us a newspaper article once, detailing our tragic "deaths", complete with these sentimental obituaries. What a load of crap. But there was a sentence in it about my placement in the competition. The placement I involuntarily forfeited. My fingers itched at the thought of a piano. I'd been working on the third movement of the Grieg concerto, but then I was scared that I would forget it. He asked me if I wanted to play again. I chewed my bottom lip, glancing at Candace and trying not to get my hopes up. She shrugged, so I shrugged too._

_The next day when he came to us he was so excited. He'd brought a little electric piano. "It's got a full keyboard," He exclaimed happily. "Come on! Try it out! I want to hear you play." But I couldn't move. I always practiced on the baby grand at a college within walking distance of my school. I hated electrics. It was the one principle I was a stickler about. Besides, music was my life, it was my ticket out of that trailer park, or so I'd thought before everything changed. I didn't want him to have access to that part of me. I wanted to be strong and fight back like Candace would. But she pushed me forward gently and finally I went, afraid to make him angry, giving up a piece of my soul._

_Now I've decided any piano is better than no piano. I play continuously if he's not here, but I have to be careful. He has a favorite song and it's the only one he wants me to play, so if he hears something else I get in trouble. He likes it so much he bought the music for me and stands over my shoulder with the biggest smile I've ever seen, doing things I'm glad I can't see. But there's this tricky part in the middle of the song that gets him every time. Sometimes he won't even let me finish the piece. Once he knocked me over in his haste. The piano bench almost hit him in the back. I wish it had. I don't like playing the piece anymore, but he makes me and like usual I don't fight him. I just close my eyes._

_He's angry again. I wonder why. I think about going over to the piano in hopes of calming him but I don't want to move. Candace has done something she shouldn't and he's making her pay. He pushes her head down and I watch her blow him. It's what he does for punishment. Says we don't deserve any of the pleasure if we're being bad. "Close your eyes Madeline!" she tells me time after time "Madeline look away!", but I know it will be worse for me once she's asleep if I do._

_"Baby I love you," it's him now, in between his sighs. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. It's the only thing from this place that I can fully distinguish._

_"I'm NOT your baby!" Candace yells, pulling away from him. Another noise, one I don't identify because I'm no longer able to match sounds with what I see. I scoot my back closer to the wall. She's gone too far this time, I know it, can sense the beginning of the end when she spits it all back into his face instead of swallowing._

_"You stupid little bitch!"He seethes. "I'm through with you!" The fabric is whipped against my lips before I can flinch and I wonder what I've done. Then the mask is back, covering Candace's mouth and we are in the trunk of his car like before, all those many months ago. Has it only been months? Maybe years. It is a long drive. Or maybe short. Sometimes I think disorientation is more in control than he is._

_Candace is shaking. I want to take the mask off but surely he will take us out of here soon. Surely he knows what is happening; this is his plan after all._

_The car stops. The trunk opens loudly. Not with a creaking sound, but with the crunching of rusty metal – like fingernails on a chalkboard, the sound that makes my sister grit her teeth. I check to see if she cringes, but he yanks her out head first, gripping the sides of her skull with a pair of thick yellow gloves around his fingers, the kind my mom used to scrub the dishes with. He dumps her into the alleyway like a sack of rotten potatoes. I hear the thud and shirk further into the shade even though everything inside me is begging for me to run to my sister, to scream at him, to fight back. I don't understand. I don't understand._

_He reaches for me and I jerk, cowering. "Ssshhh baby," he whispers before picking me up gently and I wonder what I have done to deserve this contrast. My legs are in the crook of one arm, my head cradled next to his chest with the other, but I still expect him to toss me. "I'll come back for you. I just have to do something first and I don't want Candace to be alone, okay? Just wait here." His voice is quiet, full of tenderness as he sets me down beside my sister. There is no need for overt threats anymore. All the damage has already been done._

_Then he drives away. I turn back to Candace and the mask is causing her to shake so hard I'm afraid she'll hurt her head on the rough ground so I put my jacket underneath her head. I want to take the mask off her too, but he didn't tell me to and I'm terrified of disobeying him. I don't know how this will end._

_There are strange sounds now, street sounds, nature sounds, all these things from the real world that I can no longer figure out. Things from a past life. A life that was never mine. I am freezing in this open air. I cannot even remember the last time my body felt weather. When I look at Candace next she is finally still and I wonder if she feels the same. But she is too quiet and I am afraid. It's so cold I can barely move._

_I remember this book I read once, where a boy stayed alive in below zero temperatures by hugging his dog and sharing body heat. I wonder if it works for another person, even if the person is dying. The thought makes me want to cry but I search the sky for stars instead, thinking of the days before this life when there was laughter, trying to force the recollections into my dreams. Remember Medusa, Candace? I plead inside my skull. Tell me again, like you used to. But she doesn't so I try to think of the god myself._

_I like to compare Candace and me to the daughters of Oedipus. I think we're more like Antigone and Ismene, respectively. See, their brother, Polynices, was not allowed a burial but Antigone ignored the order and got herself captured. And even though she wanted to honor him too, Ismene won't go against the law to do it. But then when the King Creon decided to bury Antigone alive as punishment, Ismene told him she had helped her sister and thus deserved the same fate. Antigone wouldn't allow Ismene to become a martyr and, in defiance to the King's decree, committed suicide. The gods convinced Creon to rescind his decision and he buried Polynices himself, but it was already too late for Antigone. She'd died alone._

_I wish the story ended differently, I wish now had a different ending, but Candace doesn't stir so I curl up next to her and pinch my eyes shut. Then I wait. I wait for him to come._

End Flashback

She is shivering but the room isn't cold. Olivia goes to wrap her in a hug and suddenly she is choking. "When," Madeline swallows and tries again. "When I woke up, I, I could smell her. I thought maybe he meant for me to save her, s-s-s-so I was gonna get in trouble and I ran away." The story finishes out in a rushed jumble.

Now she is crying – the tears fully waking her from her trance – not hysterically but desperately, a giant hole in the middle of each sentence. "I let him in the door! I tried to stop him but he was too strong. He just smiled and it was too late. It was too late!"

Olivia shakes her head. "Madeline it wasn't your fault. Brent Forrest knew what he was doing was wrong and he's not going to get away with it. But I need to ask you a couple questions. Was there another person with you and your sister?"

She gulps, stuttering. "N-n-no."

"Are you sure you never saw anyone?" Olivia's persistent.

"I didn't! I never saw her!" She turns her face, chopping the words short but Olivia catches it just the same.

"Who? Saw who?"

"No one! Nobody! Stop, stop, stop! _Just leave me alone!_"

Madeline has pulled her heels up onto the bed, holding her knees and rocking. There's something she's still hiding though, and Olivia knows it. "Madeline, it's okay. You're safe here. Brent can never hurt you again. But we have new information that makes us suspect he had another victim,"

"Good, then use that." Madeline mumbles into her left sleeve with a sniffle, interrupting Olivia unceremoniously.

Olivia chooses to ignore it, actually even embracing a smile at the first sign of normal teenage antics from this girl. "And if you know anything about her, you have to tell us so we can help her."

"Well I don't." She insists, so Olivia relents the battle victory for now and hugs the girl somewhat awkwardly at this angle, pulling Madeline's body sideways across her lap so that her shoulder is resting inside the crook of Olivia's elbow. She can feel the girl's breath hot against her collarbone but doesn't realize that Madeline is actually whispering to conceal the confession. "I don't know. I don't know about Zoe."

**A/N: dum dum dum dum dum!!!! Ha ha ha. I just love this. I don't know about you guys, but it's nice to finally see Madeline talking and opening up to Olivia, though obviously there's still more she's not telling. And what an awful story it was! Poor girl. Makes you just hate Brent Forrest, huh? But not worries, he's the focus of next chapter. Elliot too of course. I promise I will tie up all these loose ends, eventually. Lol. Also EnforcerAndAccuser I forgot to tell you earlier that the episode I was referring to when Elliot had to bring Olivia to tears in order to make their female perp confess was from S4's "Bound". An excellent episode, with once of the most funny fan captions I have ever seen, just to let you know. ;-) **

**I forgot to give credit to my reviewer **kerri **for bringing my attention to a flaw in my writing of Olivia's character. She is the reason for the update of Ch. 3. I looked back at your other comment too, about Elliot yelling at Madeline, but I made an executive decision to keep it as is because the I'd already had Elliot expressing how reluctant he was to do that to Madeline but the doctors decided it was the only way to break down her barriers. So I realize it is out of character for him and in a way I'm sorry for that, but actually that's exactly the point I was trying to make in detailing his struggle to treat a victim that way.**

**Anyway, everyone please enjoy and review!!! The next chapter will focus greatly on our perp Brent Forrest, I promise. –excited yelp – ****It just wasn't quite finalized before I realized the issues in this one, and I didn't want to put the next one up before it. That means once everyone's reviewed this chapter, I'll be updating again! - cheers - (and just a little random fact, the original version of this chapter was about 1,000 words, and now it's nearly 7,000! talk about some major revision, sheesh!)**

**TangoSVU**


	20. Clandestine Meeting

**A/N: here it is! Just like I promised. While it is not anywhere near as long as the previous, I think this chapter still holds a lot of great stuff. Any takers for a background of our perp, Brent Forrest? Yeah, that's what I thought. lol. Oh also, may I just say, I love Casey in this chapter! A very small part and not near as witty as ch. 16, but still fun. Elliot gets in trouble. I think you'll agree with me though that it was worth it! Hopefully it won't take me too long to update again, depends on how my schedule goes this week. But reviews would be wonderful! - hint hint - Oh, we've finally passed the 100 mark for reviews. Whoop! That's amazing. 10,503 hits, 14 favorites and 22 alerts!! You guys are awesome! Keep telling me what you think. kisses!**

**TangoSVU**

The gray of the walls inside the prison interview room are in stark contrast to the bright color of Brent Forrest's uniform. "Ah, where's the lovely Detective Olivia?" He smirks contentedly with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. "Surely she hasn't given up yet? All the clues are within her grasp if only she would put them together." Brent smiles as he talks; like a child grins when they think they have the upper hand, but Elliot is in no mood to placate the perp.

"She's talking to your _victim_, Forrest." He says, emphasizing victim because he highly doubts Forrest thinks of the three plus kids he's abused in that light, his kind never does. "And we both know _my_ partner's long since figured out your pathetic little puzzle, else you wouldn't be here." Deciding to switch tactics, he sits down within reach of the other man in a non-confrontational manner, even giving off a faint since of camaraderie from the two.

"So do yourself a favor," Elliot continues lithely. "And let us help you. Just give us the facts straight so we can stop muddying up your life, huh?"

Brent shifts in his seat, not a movement of nervousness however, but one of controlled calculation. "Ah, but I'm immune to your interrogation ploys, _Stabler_," he grits as if using Elliot's last name is derogatory.

Looking around the cell in mock questioning he continues "Should I call my lawyer? Aren't you crossing the line here? _Tsk tsk._ Do you like risking it all for nothing, Detective?"

Elliot allows his cool side to remain strong. "If you wanted to you could, but if you're innocent, if this is all just a great big misunderstanding, why would you need that chick of a lawyer to hold your hand?"

He watches the perp twitch beneath his eye and Elliot knows the question has bothered the man even before Brent opens his mouth in retaliation. "I don't need a woman for anything."

"Right, just young girls, I forgot," Elliot mumbles off-handedly – yet no less on purpose.

"What the hell are you insinuating?" Forrest barks, narrowing his eyes into mere slits.

"Well, see, I was just wondering why a man like you who is smart, well-mannered and clean shaven would have so much trouble overpowering the ladies." Elliot counters.

Brent is getting frustrated. "No, I had a girlfriend, the _best_. Her name was Shannon and I loved her."

"What did she do to you?" Elliot leans forward in interest.

"She twisted things around, just like you imbeciles here. Shannon brought her little sister one weekend while she was off at work and she blew everything out of proportion."

Elliot tries not to let his happiness about this topic change show. "Blew what out of proportion?"

"Shelly told Shannon I kissed her!" Brent's face is getting red. "But she kissed me. She was flirting with me the entire time, what else was I supposed to do?"

"She tricked you," Elliot supports.

"Yes! I was just working on my ham radio and Shelly stops reading to ask me about it. She was practically in my lap. Shannon had no right to get upset."

"How old was Shelly?"

"Old enough to know better and tell the truth but no, Shannon has the balls to accuse me, takes her sister and all her stuff and leaves. The bitch even gets a restraining order because she said I threatened them!" He's hissing.

"Did you?"

Brent scoffs, breathing heavy as his volume recedes. "I had a right. She was trying to ruin my life."

"Which one?"

"Both!" He stops to think. "Shelly mostly. Lying to Shannon and causing trouble. I can't believe Shannon let her get away with it."

Elliot speculates, encouraging. "She should've been punished?"

"Yes!"

"How?" Elliot is slowly reeling him in and tightening the noose but Forrest's confession seems to be slowing. _Come on,_ Elliot thinks, _I've almost got you._

Brent is blinking, twisting his mouth as he formulates the words. He takes a breath to start.

Suddenly Sophie Devere rushes in through the door, the new energy pulsating into the room. "This interview's over." She slaps her hand on the table close to Elliot. "Detective Stabler, I'm sure the People would love to hear about your misconduct."

"He was given ample notice to contact you if he wished. I've done nothing." But Elliot's heart sinks.

"Nothing my ass. Come on," She motions to Brent as the guards help him up and out the door. Elliot sighs and attempts to follow them out when ADA Novak halts him.

"What the hell was that? A clandestine meeting? I thought you were married, Stabler."

"I almost had a confession,"

"Well you almost lost us the case." Novak retorts, and then puts up her hand to stop Elliot from trying to explain himself. "I don't give a rat's ass about sleep deprivation with the baby, were you even thinking at all? I don't want you anywhere _near_ Brent Forrest for the rest of the trial, you got it?" It's a question, but no less a statement of certainty just the same.

Sophie returns with a smile. "Here to rescue your detective or are you going to plead my client out?"

"After he murdered two adults, a teenage girl _and_ ruined her younger sister's life? Now you know I'd never let that happen." Casey assures her. "Neither of you will ever see anything remotely close to a plea bargain on the table. _If_ he doesn't get the death penalty, I'll make sure your client's going to be in jail for a very long time."

Sophie grins again, full of pious knowledge. "Ah Casey, I see you still like to set yourself unattainable goals." She pats the ADA's arm. "Good luck with that. I'll see you in court."

Casey adjusts her sleeve irritably and shares a look with Elliot as Sophie walks out.


	21. Pieces Fall

**A/N: So again I apologize for this short chapter. I have this favorite story that I read on svufiction called "Proximity" and their chapters are GINORMOUS. But for some reason that just doesn't happen for me. Oh well. Means you get faster updates, right? Speaking of which, I'd planned this newest one (which I love and hate at the same time, keep reading, you'll understand) differently then it ended up happening and I had to switch things around a bit, so I actually wrote the next chapter before this one. It needs a tiny bit more editing, but should be up within a day or two. So review please please please! And I'll give you more before you know it. –wink-**

**TangoSVU**

Madeline has her hands gripped tight around the bars of the witness stand and though her face is turned toward Casey, the ADA cannot see her eyes. "That's where you'll sit, and the Judge will be right there in that chair beside you. The jury will watch from here and,"

"Ms. Novak?" The girl's chin rotates to compensate for the ADA's movements. Her voice is soft and timid, not weak but shaky, a shimmer really.

But she doesn't continue. "What Madeline?" Casey comes closer.

"W-where will… can… what if… he…" her eyes are filling with tears.

Casey can finish the words, complete the sentences held back by fear. "He can't move from that seat all the way across from you. He'll be in handcuffs and chains around his feet. And remember, the bailiff is right there," she points. "Between you and him. There's absolutely no way Brent Forrest can get to you, he can't even speak while you're here and you can leave as soon as we're finished."

"You promise?" The pleading is so fervent, and Madeline's clutching her hand so tightly, but Casey's not one to make promises she can't guarantee one hundred percent. It's the lawyer in her.

So instead she gives the girl a great big smile and wraps an arm around Madeline's shoulder to lead her back into the witness waiting room. "Come on, we can run over your testimony one more time."

Surprisingly, Madeline allows this, even offering Casey a smile of her own. "Ok."

They pass the doors to the courtroom and Madeline stops, spotting a water fountain. A lobbyist rushes by, tossing Casey a file and in her distraction she doesn't see the beginning of the impending disaster, cannot stop the tragedy.

In an unexplainable moment of perfectly wrong timing, down the hall behind Casey a door opens and in walks the guards, pulling none other than Brent Forrest himself between them. Madeline has yet to notice, not even the chains have made a sound. But no one is paying attention and it all seems to happen in slow motion.

The girl turns around, wiping her mouth on the back of her left hand and that's when they spy each other. Forrest stares into her eyes knowingly, full of unspoken threats and licks his lips – which have upturned into a sinister smile. He passes right in front of her and she wants to scream. She's about to; she takes a breath to alert Ms. Novak as every fiber in her being begs to strike him, anything but submit to him after all this time. But then he reaches out, his finger tips grasping the edges of her shoulders.

Her heart stops, she cannot breathe. He's won. He will always win. "You're mine," he whispers so only they can hear. But she knows. She's always known.

And this is the moment Casey looks back, watches the pieces of her case fall apart in an instant. She cups her hands around Madeline's ears as quickly as she can think to do it but she isn't fast enough. Righteous indignation fills her, rising up and out of her mouth. "You bastard!" She shouts, instantly placing herself between Madeline and Forrest. The guards have yet to understand the damage they've just inflicted. "What are you doing? He's not supposed to be here for at _least_ another hour. I want to talk to your superior _now_. Get him out of here and make sure he doesn't move an inch!" The guards are stumbling all over themselves and Brent does not stop looking back until he has been pulled around the corner.

Casey spins, dreading what she will find behind her. Madeline has been frozen in place, the shock and fear fully evident over every part of her face, her body. "Madeline, Madeline it's okay, he's gone."

She has not even blinked. Suddenly Madeline collapses straight down to the floor in a fainting heap and Casey realizes she isn't even breathing. "Madeline!" They're close enough to the witness room that Casey can grab Madeline beneath the arms and drag her inside. Once there Casey smacks the girl's cheeks. "Madeline breathe!"

It seems harsh, but it's exactly what she needs. Madeline jerks up with a startled, rasping gasp that sounds like it engulfs half the air in the room. Then there's hyperventilation, and her shaky fingers balling up her sleeves where he last touched her.

"Madeline, you okay?" Casey asks softly, gently placing a hand on top of hers. Madeline falls backward away from the touch and begins rocking, knees tucked tight into her chest, but for once there's no tears. There's nothing. "Madeline, I'm sorry. I should've been watching. Nothing like that will _ever_ happen again."

But Madeline doesn't believe her. She doesn't believe anyone anymore except _him_. So she doesn't look up. She doesn't stop rocking. She doesn't speak.

Casey sees it for what it is, and her heart catches. Just then Rebecca Hendrix crosses the threshold carrying a travel mug of coffee whose smell is so strong the sweet caramel scent nearly overpowers the room. Luckily her entrance allows Casey the escape she needs. Rebecca's clearly confused but Casey can only toss her comment behind her as she rushes out the door. "Our perp got to her. Do what you can; I'll be back before the trial."


	22. Strength from A Ghost

**A/N: Very short "scene" here guys, sorry! But I just got so excited at the presence of some kind of inspiration which I had thought I'd lost, so this is what became of it. No telling when another update will happen because my life kinda spun out as of recently, but we'll see. Oh, if you haven't read my newest fic "Undercover" yet, please do! In fact, I insist! It's a must. I'm very pleased with it, and the next update will probably be for that chapter. Anyway, review as always! –kisses-**

**TangoSVU**

She does not need this right now. This case has presented her with nothing but problems. First the star – and only – witness won't talk, then Casey has to fight for jail time instead of bail. Plus the perp has no family to speak of and the ex-girlfriend he mentioned is nowhere to be found – which is rather unfortunate seeing as how it would've been great to have a solid character witness. And now this, on top of it all: her defendant refuses to testify.

_I don't have time for this,_ Casey thinks as she bursts through the entrance to the 1-6. Luckily, rarity of all rarities, both detectives are at their desks so she doesn't have to waste time searching for them.

Tossing his feet off the top of his desk, Elliot greets the ADA. "Hey! Aren't you due in court like, now?"

"Don't remind me." She replies curtly.

"Why not?" Olivia walks to stand beside her friend in curiosity.

Casey crosses her arms. "Madeline won't testify. There was a mistake and Forrest got to her at court. She just, cracked, shattered. I'm afraid she's stopped talking again and there's nothing I can do to restrict Forrest from his own trial unless I can convince a judge to ignore the foundations of our Constitution. Besides, she's on the stand in less than an hour. I left her there with Hendrix." She sighs.

"We can't get to her today," Elliot shakes his head against Olivia's fervor. "Cragen will have our asses in a sling if all this paperwork isn't finished by the end of our shift. We're on desk duty until then."

Casey watches Olivia's jaw clench in frustration. The woman is ticked because she knows he's right and she can't do anything about it. "My hands are tied," Casey states. "This whole case rests on the shoulders of an uncooperative fifteen-year old girl." And any onlooker can tell she hates feeling so powerless. "Someone's got to talk to her; nothing I said has made a difference."

That does it. Olivia grabs her jacket off the back of the chair and yanks Casey's arm to pull her along. "Take me to her."

"Liv," Elliot starts with a glance over his shoulder to Cragen's office. "The Cap's gonna,"

"Don't start on me Elliot." She puts a single finger up in his direction. "These kids get to counting on one of us and we can't just abandon them once their case is placed into our filing cabinet."

"I know that, I just,"

"I'm going," Olivia's determination is undeniable and unquenchable. "and if Cragen wants to fire me, he'll just have to wait until I get back."

"Elliot," Casey motions to ward him off. "If this falls through…" she pauses in thought. "You've got to find me a witness, else he's just gonna get out and do it again and I am in no mood to let him get away with anything, _ever_." The door closes behind the two women, leaving the detective with no other option except to sit back down and bury himself in work.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Hendrix catches Benson and Novak right before they enter the room. "Olivia," she sighs, grabbing her arm to stop the detective's movement. "I can't bring her back. She's cut herself off from everything. I don't think there's any way she can testify, the terror has her much too fragile."

But Olivia pushes past Rebecca and Casey just glares at her. "She has to." the ADA insists.

Without hesitation, Olivia sits on the floor in front of the girl and pulls her hands off her ears. It doesn't stop the rocking motion however. "Madeline, I know you're scared but once you tell the jury what happened he will _never_ be able to touch you in any way again. Mistakes happen, but we _can't_ let him get away with hurting you like he did!"

Only she's not getting through; she's not getting anywhere and she knows it, looks at Casey and is met with the same helpless stare. And she hates it, she hates that everyone is expecting her to be able to fix this when she doesn't know how, when she doesn't think she can. Ask any adult to go through the things this girl has and still testify against her abuser and they'd be hard pressed to do it. Yet here she is, barely a teenager. They're requiring so much of her, too much.

"Call for Madeline Alyssa Terpening." The bailiff interrupts everyone's thoughts with his brief interference into their little group inside the witness room and Olivia's startled that Madeline doesn't correct him. Time is up. Olivia just wants to hug her and make it all go away but she knows it won't work and wouldn't accomplish anything anyway. Madeline has so many people here rooting for her, supporting her. Why can't this girl see that? She has all that she needs to pull through this if only she could access it like her sister did…

The light bulb ignites. _That's it!_ Olivia realizes, and focuses back to Madeline's face. "Madeline, look at me. I know you're in there. I know you can hear me."

She grasps the girl's chin and jerks it toward her so that they have to stare into each other's eyes. Casey takes a step forward, seemingly surprised when Madeline does not whimper or twist away. But in truth, Olivia has seen blank, absent stares before and this isn't one of them. Madeline's eyes are clear as crystal; bright and shining green so that Olivia can almost physically see the wheels turning inside the girl's brain. She's not dissociating and she hasn't regressed, she's just terrified. But Olivia can see the fire underneath the fear, knows what she has to do to bring out the resolve.

So she narrows her eyes and begins her side of the fight. "What about Candace? If Brent had seen her just now, before the trial, would she have let him stop her from putting him in his place? Would she ever have refused to do something that would place him behind bars? No. Candace wouldn't have. Candace never _did_. She _always_ fought back, didn't she? She never gave up no matter what he said or did, and if she was here right now she'd expect you to do the same. Now _get up_." Olivia's voice is harsh but she's not angry, just stern, absolute. Madeline _will_ do this, she has to and everyone knows it, even her as Olivia gets the slightest perception of a nod. "It's time to tell the truth."

And without even waiting for a response, Olivia pulls Madeline to her feet, motions to Casey, and waltzes her charge into the courtroom.


	23. Testimony Truth

**A/N: I know I know, it's been forev!! No excuses, even though I have some very good ones like finals and moving out of the dorm and my brother visiting and all sorts of other stresses, plus working at camp this summer and only get 23hrs off a week and having minimum at best internet access!! But we won't mention those. An update! Here it is, I know you're ecstatic. Show some love with your reviews! This story will be wrapped up with just one more chapter I think, so enjoy it while you can. The next update will hopefully be for **_**Undercover**_** which you should read by now if you haven't already! Luv luv luv**

**TangoSVU**

This is it. D-day. Or T-day actually, if you think about it. T for trial, or even testimony. Maybe it should be C-day, for conviction. _Oh whatever,_ Casey admonishes the thoughts that are quickly replaced with new ones. She's embarrassed to admit it to herself, but when she's nervous or stressed, Casey starts repeating in her head as much of the Constitution as she can remember until she's calmed down. She knows it's silly, but something about it just stills her nerves.

But Casey doesn't have time for that right now because Olivia has already passed Madeline on to the bailiff and the young girl is sitting down inside the witness box.

Casey crosses in front of Madeline, careful to give the girl her most confident smile before she starts her questioning. The beginning is easy, things like name, date of birth, address and basic information, stuff that allows the witness to become comfortable with the court room set-up and system – though for Madeline some of that information isn't so simple. But Casey gets her through it. She can't drag this on forever though, so Casey eventually just takes a deep breath, and dives in.

"Madeline, what were you doing on the evening of May 27, 2007?" She's biting her lip already. _Come on, Madeline,_ Casey pleads. _You just have to do this once. Just once._

"I was home, with my family. We were celebrating my sister's grades."

Casey motions and a picture of the Terpening family appears on a wall screen. She points out each member to the jury as she talks. "As you can see, they were a happy, loving family enjoying their time together. But that time was violently ended much too soon." The next picture on the screen showed the charred remains of the Terpening house beside one of Candace's body. Luckily Casey had made sure the screen was in a place that Madeline couldn't view it. She had already gone over those details with Warner's testimony. Now she just had to prove that Brent Forrest had caused it all. "This girl you see in front of you is the last remaining victim from the horrific crimes of a vicious man. Instead of seeing her parents smile at her 8th grade graduation, she saw them murdered in front of her. Instead of giving away her first kiss to that special someone, it was stolen from her by a man over twice her age. She and her sister were terrorized and violated multiple times a day for nearly a year before he killed Candace, also in front of this girl's eyes. It is a miracle that she survived and freed herself from his grasp at all. Madeline, is that man here in the court room today?"

There is an awkward, strained silence. Then a noise, not like an A/C noise or even a chair creaking, but something musical, like… a cell phone ringtone? It sounds like an old piano, tinny not mechanical, but a no less haunting melody. Heads start turning in an attempt to find the source but Olivia looks up at Madeline. The girl is frozen, a single tear slipping slowly past her cheek in a mesmerizing pathway. That's when Olivia recognizes the tune. It's that section, from the piece in the hospital! The music that taints Madeline's dreams.

Olivia quickly tugs Novak's shoulder. "Casey!" she whispers, her words no less tart. The ADA glances back at her questioningly. "That's the song he would make her play before he raped her!"

Casey's eyes narrow, knowing exactly what this means. "How the hell did he…?"

Then she stands, her voice more than just tainted with anger. "Your honor! The defendant is antagonizing my client!" The music hasn't stopped, unlike most ringtones it just keeps replaying, a delicate chime in the background of this debacle.

Forrest is just sitting there, full of piety and mock innocence thinly veiled, but there is still something wicked and sinister in his not-quite-there smile. He glances at Olivia, his gaze unbroken and unfazed. She imagines a wink displayed just for her, but when she blinks to clear her own view, she startles to find he isn't looking at her at all. Instead to Casey, or maybe his own attorney who has been protesting through-out this entire exchange. Or was it anything at all? she wonders, and turns her head away.

"He hasn't said a word! And he's just come from a jail cell, how could he have a cell phone on him?" Sophie up rises, following Novak's suit hotly.

"I don't know," Casey replies. "But that song was integral to his abuse of my client! He's attempting to dissuade her from,"

Devere is responding even as the gavel bangs above her voice. "ENOUGH!" Judge Petrovsky states. "There will be order in my courtroom! What is this _nonsense_, Counselors?"

But just like that, the music has disappeared and there's silence. Everyone turns to the victim to determine the damage. Risking it all, Olivia has approached the witness. Surprisingly, no one – not even the bailiff or Judge – thinks to stop her. "Madeline," she calls gently. "Are you okay?"

The teenager blinks, her breathing ragged. But she swallows and, finally, a tiny nod.

Everyone sinks back a little into their seats, no one quite sure what it is they've just witnessed. Novak composes herself, purposefully giving her witness time to do the same. Then she looks the girl in the eyes again, and repeats her question. "Is that man here in the courtroom today, Madeline?"

And through everything, it happens just like they'd rehearsed: Madeline's index finger rises – only it's trembling so hard she can barely focus its direction. There are tears in her eyes and her voice is quiet as a dove. "He used to be Mr. Forrest." She states simply. Casey smiles.

"Let the record be shown that the witness has identified the accused, Brent Forrest." Casey continues with her spiel when suddenly she sees that something is off. Madeline is not looking at her anymore. She turns to find the girl locked into a staring contest with none other than the devil incarnate himself. Casey stomps the volume of the curse that escapes from underneath her tongue. First that goddamn cell phone – which she barely got Madeline back from, and only thanks to Olivia – and now this. She makes her voice soft and puts herself directly between the two individuals. "What did he do, Madeline?"

No response. Dammit! Damn it all to hell! "Counselor, would you like to request a recess?" Judge Petrovsky suggests cautiously, no less a warning. But there is no way Casey's getting the girl back into this courtroom after everything she's been through already today, so a recess is out of the question. Forrest is grinning stupidly, thinking he has won. But Casey will win this case. She will win it no matter the cost. She will win it for all the victims she's ever put through a trial, for all the victims she couldn't convince, for all the perps she couldn't convict, for all the wrongs she couldn't right. She will win this for Candace, for Madeline; she will save this girl in hopes of erasing the memory of all the ones she couldn't save. Casey will save her for Charlie.

"Madeline!" She barks, putting her face up as close to the girl's as she dares. Madeline blinks, sits back in the chair with a staggered breath. Casey repeats the question, just as gentle.

The tears are falling, but they are not tears of fear anymore. They are tears of loss. No, even more than that. They are tears of anger. A pure, white hot anger from personal scars , an anger that tinges her every word in place of exclamations as she answers, now just as determined as Casey. "He killed my sister! He killed my parents!" The pause worries Casey for just an instant, but then in a moment more perfect than anything Casey could have tried to plan, Madeline looks to the jury, her face streaked from the tears and wracked with pain. "He stole my life!"

Oh Casey could just hug the girl right this very instant! She watches the jury and sees every face focused on Madeline, pulled in by the very thing that has everyone in the 1-6 undeniably caught. She is just about to release Madeline from the stand when the girl says something else. "He killed Zoe too!"

If there is any air, no one is breathing it because the entire room goes silent. There isn't even the expected gasp. After a moment, Petrovsky glances at Casey, but she can only shrug. The Judge turns back to Madeline and dares to speak the question on everyone's mind. "Who's Zoe?"

Madeline plants her fists on top of the witness bar, now fully confident, her voice strong with purpose. "The deaf girl he had before us. She's buried beneath the warehouse." Casey can instantly taste the sweet victory on her tongue; can almost hear the chains jingle and the jail door bang closed. She turns toward Forrest, whose smile is gone, replaced by the startled knowledge of defeat. Casey doesn't even bother with a smirk of her own; she's wasted enough of her energy on this scumbag already. But she nods to Madeline, who – even as that eerily silent crying continues undisturbed – is breathing steady.


	24. It's Over

**A/N: So, it's finally happened, whether we all wanted it to or not! Bypassing all my normal ramblings about why it's taken me so long to freakin' update, I sincerely hope that everyone will be thoroughly and completely satisfied with this final installment here as I am. It's relatively long but not overly so. Tied up all the loose ends (I think! And if not, golly well please let me know! lol) and such. It's very hard to figure out how to do that sometimes! It's slightly different in parts than my earlier chapters, partly the fault of the different style I've been using for my **_**Undercover **_**fic I suspect. Got a little deeper into Elliot and Olivia's point of view, even tossing in a few allusions to previous episodes, but I stayed out of Casey's. For some reason I just felt like she'd already had all her moments, you know? And this deserved to go out the way it came in: with Madeline.**

**-TangoSVU**

They find the body in a back corner of the warehouse, hidden in the cinder blocks beneath a very old furnace that probably hadn't worked since the 70s. Warner nods to the detectives. "I'd have to do an official autopsy to be sure, but it looks like he used the same method on her. I don't see any signs of strangulation or any fatal wounds."

Olivia has that soft glint in her eyes as she looks at the young girl's body before asking her partner, "Do you think that neighbor would be able to identify her?"

"It's worth a shot. I can send a car over there this afternoon." Elliot agrees, "Hopefully we'll be able to find her parents, let them know what happened." It's often said to be the worst part of the job, telling the loved ones. Especially if they demanded you bring them to the morgue to see the body before they dared to confront it.

Sometimes, the person fought you. You tried to anticipate their moves and grab them in a strong hold so that they couldn't hurt you or themselves. Then they'd thrash, tugging and wrenching at you in their anger. The problem was, they usually weren't angry at you. In fact, they usually weren't angry at all. Something in their life had just crashed, crumbling before their very eyes and the first and foremost response was usually anger, purely because it was the easiest to access in a pinch. As soon as that was done the person – often a woman, but he'd had men react the same way – cried out. "I'm fine! Let me go." And he would, out of respect. Inevitably though, as soon as the anger dissipated the reality crashed in and they'd stagger helplessly, as if instantly deflated. He'd catch an elbow or a shoulder, try to steady the person as they wobbled, and suddenly he'd find them inside his arms, grasping at the only solid thing in their life. So he'd stand firm, becoming what they needed him to be, because he hadn't been there to prevent whatever it was that had ruined their life in the first place.

Which, of course, did make it one of the hardest things about their job, but it's always the children looking up at him with their big bright eyes, questions so thick behind the lashes, as if chastising him for not getting there to rescue them sooner, that gets him more. Even with his own kids, he just seems to catch on a moment too late.

Shaking his head – he can't be thinking about them right now – he leans down to give Olivia a hand up before crossing out into the dim sunlight. Both of them tilt their heads upward, stilling their walk to the road. The sky is cloudy and colorless, as if tainted with sadness in response to this entire situation. They climb into the car – him in the driver's seat – but don't go anywhere. He barely manages to get the key inside the ignition. Finally, he speaks without looking at her. "This case really got to you,"

"You too," she replies simply, staring aimlessly out her side of the car and taking the conversation absolutely nowhere. He doesn't know where he wants it to go, so he drives to her place, parks out front. Neither one of them moves.

Pursing his lips together, he thinks for a minute before continuing their previous exchange. "We've had worse cases. Why this one?"

"She has no one," Olivia jumps in, no sign of the hesitation he feels radiating from her skin. She looks to him and blinks the tears out of her eyes. "Madeline believes in me. She _needs_ me."

_And I don't?_ he thinks. Then wonders, _who doesn't?_ It's something he can't touch though, and they both know it. "What's going to happen to her?"

Olivia shifts her weight to disguise the sound of her sigh. "Hendrix says she'll stay at the hospital for awhile. She's got quite a lot of stuff to go through. But she's strong." There's admiration in her voice but it disappears as quickly as it came. "Probably enter a home or foster care." A brief silence. "I just wish I could do more for her."

"You did everything you were supposed to. It was more than most." He assures her.

"But was it enough?" her breath is quiet, and he understands this is one of those moments that they cross every few years, the irrefutable doubt. He reaches across to grab her hand but grips her shoulder gently instead, unsure of the boundaries between them anymore.

The action and the words jolt in Olivia's memory. She remembers that last conversation before Alex was shot. They were all sitting in the bar, their usual evening after a significant day in court. Munch, Fin and the Cap had all left when she started up. _"It just, it never seems like enough, you know?"_ And then she'd gone off into a tangent about Zapata before getting back to what was really bothering her. _"We tell ourselves that we speak for the victims but we don't. We can close cases. But the victims, even if they survive, they're lives are ruined. I just get so sick of it."_ This was where Elliot had jumped in. _"Alex, we can't always win."_ But even Olivia could see it wasn't really about winning or not winning and Alex's next words confirmed her thoughts. _"But that's just it. Even when we win, we don't."_ Nobody had anything to say to refute her statement, so they'd all just left it at that and gone outside.

That was when someone shot her. Olivia knows that Alex is alive now, that it was all a lead-in to the Witness Protection Program for Alex, but she hadn't known that then. She'd been down on the ground realizing she'd failed to protect one of her closest friends. Olivia'd seen the shock of pain reverberating through Alex's eyes, felt the tears in her own. The gun shot was in Alex's right shoulder. Olivia knew she had to put pressure on it but she didn't want to touch it, didn't want to hurt her friend. She did anyway, could feel the blood pooling around her fingers with no sign of stopping. The blood was impossibly sticky, to be flowing out of her so fast. There was just too much of it. It was too much blood, too much and Alex was fading fast but there was nothing else she could think of to do. In that moment, Olivia'd felt hopeless, just talking nonsense to Alex trying to keep her awake.

She wasn't thinking anything then, but she thought a lot about that last conversation later, and in the years to come. In the end, Alex had made her point and said all she'd wanted to. There was nothing more to say after that. And yet Olivia has been searching all these years for that one chance to be able to tell someone – Alex maybe, or her mother, or Elliot even, just _somebody _– that this time she had actually won. _This_ time she'd made the world _right_. But it's never happened. Not now, for Zoe and Candace and Madeline. Not even for herself.

Her beeper suddenly goes off, breaking the silence that has crept inside the car with them. Elliot pulls away as she reaches into her pocket for it. "It's Casey," she says, breathless for some reason. And he immediately turns them in the direction of the courthouse.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Casey grabs the detectives right before they enter through the courtroom doors. "We're going to have a separate trial to deal with the girl you guys uncovered,"

"Madeline uncovered," Olivia clarifies, so Casey clears her throat in acknowledgement before continuing.

"But Judge Petrovsky didn't want to prolong this one any longer, and the jury's already back."

And that's all the information anyone can get because they're separating into their seats as the gavel rings out and the jury files in. Judge Petrovsky's is the next voice they hear. "Members of the Jury, have you reached a decision?"

Juror one, a middle-aged business woman in a smart burgundy dress suit with her bottle-blonde hair in a tight French twist up-do – the kind of person that calls to mind a single life with no need or desire for children – stands and sends a strained smile towards Madeline's general direction. "We have, your Honor."

The bailiff takes the slip of paper from her hand to pass onto the Judge, and Madeline can only stare at it. She's at a loss. How on earth could that little flimsy thing hold the fate of her life on it? It wasn't substantial enough. _The irony_, Candace would've laughed. It's the kind of thing Candace would make – would _have_ made – an everlasting gag out of. _Paper!_ Or _Slip!_ Or maybe even _Piece!_ And she would've pinched Madeline's elbow – her only tickle spot – until they'd both dissolved into a fit of giggles, rolling on the floor at their own childish inside joke.

She chokes on the image now as the almost-laugh bubbles up and into her throat. Ms. Novak nudges her side gently and motions her head so that Madeline is forced back into the grim reality of the situation before her. She swallows, immediately stiff in her seat. Fingers grip hers – Ms. Novak, she realizes – and she can hear Olivia's shallow breath directly behind her as the Judge speaks.

"On the first part of the indictment, two counts of kidnapping, child endangerment and rape in the first degree, how do you find the defendant?"

There's a silence. Madeline focuses on one of the jurors, a black woman whose tight black curls spring from her head like anxious snakes, and that's when she knows. _There's your Medusa, Candace._ She lets the tiny smile loose at the exact moment the awaited answer sounds.

"Guilty."

It feels like the entire courtroom lets out the breath they were holding but Judge Petrovsky continues through the sudden stream of noise. "On the second part of the indictment, three counts of murder in the first degree, how do you find the defendant?"

This time there is no pause. Everything has been decided already. "Guilty."

And the world spins faster than she can ever remember it traveling. So fast she cannot make sense of what is happening. Noise, so much noise, and movement, everybody moving and nobody going anywhere. The gavel bangs, someone is saying something but Madeline hears nothing. Ms. Novak has yanked her up into an excited hug, and then before she even realizes she's been let go she now finds herself tight inside Olivia's arms, the scent of mandarin shooting straight up her nose. It smells like heaven, freedom, the beginning of new life. Time rushing past her eyes is making her dizzy, only Olivia's not letting her go. "Look," she whispers into Madeline's ear, simultaneously turning her to the left.

The bailiff is taking the man away. In the last moment before the double doors close over him, Madeline glimpses his eyes. Where once there was power and evil, now she only sees disbelief, fear, _helplessness_. It is as if a part of his soul has been cut off. There is a profound sense of weightlessness inside her chest, as if the bad things he brought into her life are disappearing with him. "You did this," Olivia says proudly, draping her arms across Madeline's shoulders and pulling her back into the woman's chest. Her hair falls into Madeline's vision as their eyes meet. Olivia understands her silent question and nods. "It's over now." Madeline blinks repeatedly, sinking back into Olivia's body before finally closing her eyes. _It's over. It's over Candace. You were right. It's over._

Epilogue:

"Hmm… that's new." Olivia smiles, a curious lilt of her voice at the pleasant melody, sliding up to the piano behind the girl to lean over her right shoulder slightly. "It's nice."

Madeline turns the page while replying, "It's a Brahms Waltz." A shrug of her shoulders. "Figured I'd put Chopin on the backburner for a bit. You missed the Grieg earlier."

Olivia goes to answer when Elliot strides through the doorway to meet the two women. "That sounds great!" He shouts amicably and then grabs his partner's hand gently. "May I ask the lady to a dance?"

She looks to their young accompanist with a wink. "Think I should humor him?"

"If you don't, I think I'll have to start playing _The Entertainer_." Madeline practically rolls her eyes with Olivia as she lets out her giggle, a delightfully elegant sound that the world hasn't heard in over a year.

"Oh my," Elliot adds in the same humorously fake accent, "I'm afraid I don't know that one mademoiselle," and then he twists Olivia abruptly into a powerful spin with a dip catch before bringing her back into the basic step. With Elliot's confident stance, Olivia's gasp turns into a laugh, good-naturedly fanning her blush with her right hand, the light-hearted music beneath them a perfect soundtrack as Madeline looks up at them, beaming.

**A/N: And now I lay my baby down to rest, tears and all. :-)**


End file.
